Do I Not Bleed?
by Ferret2
Summary: [COMPLETE] Yet another Draco fic, stuffed with action, romance, vampires, comedy, and cock fights. Enjoy!
1. The Revival

**Chapter 1: The Revival**   
  
Draco was fast asleep and not aware that he'd missed his Potions class. He was on the right edge of his four-poster, lying on his right side. His pale complexion made him look fragile. His lanky body was adorned in silky black pajamas, but sometime last night, Draco had taken the pajama top off and only his pants remained on his body. He turned slightly causing the blanket to only cover his calves and feet now, revealing a six-pack all the Slytherin girls, and even some girls from other houses, would sever their limbs to see.   
  
Suddenly there was a loud banging at Draco's door and he was unkindly awoken. He still hadn't opened his eyes, but just moaned and placed his head under his pillow.   
  
"Damn hangover," Draco moaned, his voice muffled by the pillow.   
  
He heard the door open and shut.   
  
_Arg_, he thought to himself. _Who the hell wants to be here this early--?_   
  
Draco suddenly stiffened and then relaxed once again. It was Blaise Zabini, his girlfriend. She'd decided now was a good time as any to start licking Draco's neck.   
  
Her tongue smoothly made its way across the back of his neck, and just as she was about to go for his face, Draco suddenly came out from under the pillow, causing Blaise's tongue to nearly have a collision with the pillow.   
  
_Ick_, Draco thought to himself, but felt himself smile at Blaise all the same.   
  
She was in her school robes, and the heavy scent of Blaise's J'adore perfume was clogging Draco's nostrils and making his head pound even harder. Her fiery red hair was elegantly up today, held by two chopsticks. Draco, however, preferred a girl's hair down. Blaise, sitting on her knees, now moved so that she was sitting on Draco's stomach, one knee on each side of his body.   
  
"Oof," Draco grumbled as she sat on him, soft enough for Blaise to ignore.   
  
"Aren't you going to get up?" Blaise asked in a baby voice, stroking the area between Draco's pectorals with a finger as she gave him innocent puppy eyes.   
  
Draco shifted uncomfortably under Blaise's weight. It wasn't that she was heavy, but the way she so lightly stroked his chest made him shiver. Blaise surely had noticed that by now. All the more reason to do it, according to her most likely.   
  
"Draco," Blaise pleaded once again, adding a pout to her puppy eyes.   
  
"What?" Draco moaned, trying to put his head back under his pillow.   
  
"Oh, no you don't!" Blaise retorted. With that, she was now completely on top of Draco.   
  
He now wore a sneer, and had to resist the urge to blow his silvery hair away from his eyes and the bigger urge to throw Blaise across the room.   
  
Blaise blew into his left ear.   
  
_God, why me—?_ Draco had begun to think when Blaise suddenly shrieked into Draco's ear and was back to sitting on his stomach.   
  
"Where is it? Where?" Blaise demanded.   
  
"You don't have to yell so bloody loud!" Draco wailed as he gracefully and seemingly effortlessly pushed Blaise off the bed. His left hand was across his eyes, the thumb on one temple of his head, and the other four fingers on the other temple, slowly massaging. Draco looked over his bed at a furious Blaise, sprawled across the floor, her mini skirt revealing more of her legs than they were supposed to… and the two bottles of Wiz Fiz Beer and one bottle of Doc Smith's Knockout gin next to her. "I mean," Draco said helplessly, "what is it?"   
  
Blaise faked a sniffle, "My picture. You don't have it on your bedside table!"   
  
With her jumping all about him like a half-dressed banana, who needed a picture? Who _wanted_ a picture? Draco thought about what Crabbe and Goyle would have said to that. "Depends, which half of her is dressed?" He smirked.   
  
Bad idea.   
  
Blaise squealed once again, attempted to throw one of the beer bottles at Draco's head, but he ducked, moments before it crashed into the wall above him. "You _lost_ it?" Blaise said. "You… you…" Not knowing what to say, she groaned, sounding like a flustered horse and slapped Draco across the face.   
  
Draco had hardly moved at that which made Blaise even angrier. "I hate you, Draco Malfoy!"   
  
As she stalked off towards the door, Draco added in a sweet voice, "See you at dinner, love!"   
  
Another flustered groan was heard from Blaise before she loudly slammed the door shut.   
  
"Damn her," he said aloud as he rubbed the right side of his face where Blaise's hand print still remained. "If only she'd mean what she says." He checked the time and cursed when he discovered he'd missed Potions. Draco stuck his head back under the pillow.   
  
Five minutes later, he groggily got up, stepped over a black, semi-see-through clothing item belonging to Blaise, picked out a pair of black trousers and an emerald green, long sleeved button-up shirt and marched into the boys' showers… not even noticing the small black book, that hadn't been there before, on top of the rest of his books.   
  


* * *

  
  
"What do you mean you didn't want to wake me up?" Harry demanded.   
  
Ron and Hermione stared back at Harry with sheepish looks on their faces.   
  
"Well, lately, you've been staying up pretty late," Hermione said as Ron nodded. "So we thought we'd let you sleep in just this once. Ron says it was five o'clock in the morning when you went to sleep—"   
  
"Hello?!" Harry said while waving his arms about. "You let me sleep through _Potions_ class?" Now Harry turned to Ron. "Are you mad?"   
  
Ron's face contorted into an expression that might've been funny had it been under a situation of less tension and seriousness.   
  
Just about everyone else was outside now. Many were having lunch, enjoying the beautiful weather the skies around Hogwarts castle had to offer, but the infamous trio remained in the common room. It was dark and strangely, the atmosphere inside Hogwarts always reminded one of the winter seasons, even in the hottest of summer days.   
  
A fire was lit, nonetheless, but curiously, the room was kept at a comfortable temperature. Harry paced back and forth, passing the right side of the fireplace, then the left and all over again.   
  
Ron bravely piped in. "Harry, you don't really need to overreact _that_ much. I mean, sure Snape's going to be mad, but Draco—"   
  
"_Mad?_" Harry exclaimed, flabbergasted. "That _was_ an understatement, wasn't it?"   
  
Hermione bossily crossed her arms over her chest and stood up. "Harry, we were only thinking of what was in your best interest. If you'd rather we let you stay up all night doing whatever it is you're doing, then fine." With that, she marched up the stairs to the girls' dormitory and slammed the door shut.   
  
Ron arched an eyebrow. Everyone was being rather fussy today.   
  
"I knew it! She's been nutters for years now! As if missing Snape's class wouldn't do anything." Harry had an amazed look on his face.   
  
"Well," Ron piped in meekly. "You didn't have to be so—" Ron thought about the correct word to say, "—PMS-ish about it."   
  
Harry curiously looked at Ron's contorted face.   
  
"Fine. Take _her_ side," Harry said, briskly walking past Ron to get to the boys' dormitory.   
  
"Harry!" Ron pleaded. "Even Malfoy wasn't in class—"   
  
Harry had shut the door to his dormitory before Ron could finish. "What? Is it National PMS Day or something? Why didn't anyone tell me?" With that, Ron stepped through the portrait hole and made his way to the kitchen to get some food.   
  


* * *

  
  
Ron carefully lifted up different objects in the kitchen and tried to ignore the worried house elves scurrying around his feet. It was difficult to be quiet and sneaky with one of them speaking to him every other second.   
  
"Please, sir, let us help you look for whatever it is you desire," said a house elf shaded a soft bluish color.   
  
"Winky, I can handle it," an annoyed Ron told the elf. "Honestly, I'm just looking for a loaf of bread. A _piece_ of bread for a sandwich!"   
  
"It's Blinky," the elf corrected Ron. Then she pointed to the left of the ovens. "And the bread is on the third row of cabinets, second shelf, eighth drawer, right side."   
  
Ron gave the elf a quizzical look before he went to the specified drawer only to find the twelve different types of bread Hogwarts offered. "Why didn't _I_ think of that?"   
  
"Oh, I don't know," a cold voice behind Ron drawled. "Perhaps—"   
  
Ron whipped around. "_Perhaps_ that hair gel has begun to seep into your brain, very surprisingly, through that _thick_ head of yours to think anything _you_ say could bother me, _Malfoy_!" Ron spat the name as if it had been something bitter tasting that had been rolling around in his mouth.   
  
"Oh! Pardon me," Draco said, his voice dripping in sarcasm. Slytherins _don't_ have manners. "I didn't even have to say anything and you've already decided to become flustered." Draco gave Ron a cheeky smirk before going to the other end of the kitchen to find whatever it was he was looking for.   
  
"You are such a gaywad!" Ron said rather aimlessly.   
  
"And you're a fuckwit, but you don't see _me_ complaining," Draco added, still maintaining his playful tone of voice.   
  
Ron reddened and his ears slowly turned pink, but he too maintained control over whatever it was he was trying to control. He decided right then that he wouldn't let Malfoy get to him. Not on National PMS Day.   
  
The doors to the kitchen opened suddenly and Ron tensed. Draco's attention was now at the door, but he hadn't moved except for his now arched left eyebrow.   
  
Moments later, a flaming red head of hair walked into the room. Inches shorter than Draco, slim with the new shape of a woman, was Ginny Weasley, Ron's kid-sister.   
  
Ron relaxed and was about to ask Ginny what she was doing in here, but he never had the chance.   
  
Ginny swiftly drew out her wand, pointed it at Draco and said, "Petrificus totalus!"   
  
_Thud_. Draco landed flat on his back next to the Gryffindor-red sofa.   
  
Eyes wide, Ron cautiously turned to his younger sister. "Gin! How did you manage to get him like that?"   
  
Ron was nothing less than amazed. _No one_ could catch Draco Malfoy off guard, but Ginny had! He walked over to congratulate her with an affectionate pat on the back, but he stopped before reaching her. She had turned pale and was trembling.   
  
"Gin, you okay? You don't really look so—"   
  
Before Ron could finish, Ginny's eyelids fluttered a bit and her body began to make its way to the floor.   
  
"Gin!" Ron exclaimed, dropping the bread in his hands so that he could catch his sister.   
  
Ginny's bright hair was messily, yet elegantly, sprawled about her face. Ron, kneeling on his right knee and supporting Ginny with his left knee, turned her face upwards and moved the strands of hair away from her face.   
  
He jostled her gently, but no response. "Ginny!" Ron moaned softly.   
  
An ice-cold voice came from behind Ron. "She's alive, but only just."   
  
Furious, Ron whipped around and the first thing he began to think was, _What the fu—_   
  
But he stopped thinking when he saw who was behind him. Someone had removed the charm from Draco and he stood upright and motionless. He had a strange distant look in his eyes. His silvery strands of hair dangled in front of his eyes, but he made no attempts to brush the loose strands aside. It was almost as if Malfoy wasn't there… but the thing is, he was.   
  
What had made Ron stop thinking was the fact that there was _another_ person standing next to Malfoy. The intruder was tall, had dark hair, and was probably thought of as handsome. He had an uncanny resemblance to Harry, but he wore Slytherin robes, though the stitching on his robes was different than that of Draco's robes. The colors were worn out and a dried splotch of red blood covered the area of his shirt right above his heart.   
  
"No need to look so frightened," the man said. "I just wanted to say that again after so long." Then he began flexing his fingers and wiggling them around in a manner that didn't seem silly, but normal as if everyone went around wiggling their fingers like they'd just received them.   
  
_Again?_ Ron wondered.   
  
The dark-haired man looked up from his hands and then extended an arm. "Oh, pardon me." The manners were obviously only for a dramatic touch. He continued, "The name's Riddle. Tom Marvolo Riddle."   
  
**Author's Note:** Oh look! Tom Riddle's baa-aaaack! And Jonah, I think this will be the very first fic that I won't give up on! I think I'll actually finish it! Chapter one, though it was pretty short, is dedicated to the one and only Jonah, my inspiration, perspiration (sorry, that's gross, isn't it?), and chum. Thanks for dealing with my Harry Potter obsession! You own us all and rock my toe socks! >D  
**bad-faith.net - Go visit Jonah's super cool domain!**   
  
**Chapter Two:** Look forward to both Ginny and Ron in the Infirmary! Harry and Hermione have finished PMS-ing, _and_ Draco receives a rather unpleasant surprise! We'll also find out soon enough (not until a couple chapters, though) why Ginny had that fainting spell.  
  
**Joya loves you all!!**


	2. Surprise, surprise!

**Chapter 2: Surprise, surprise!**   
  
Ron's eyes widened. Tom Riddle? He had nearly killed Ginny in her first year at Hogwarts! Ron could feel himself trembling, but knew he had to remain strong. Ginny was unconscious, and only Godric knows why, Draco was acting more freaky than usual, Harry and Hermione were busy PMS-ing, and he was all alone in the Hogwarts kitchen with a ghost who was supposed to be the most evil wizard of all time. Oh, we mustn't forget the elves. Ron glanced around the room at the spaces under tables, between shelves and behind jars, all occupied by house elves.   
  
Great. He had the situation figured out, but what would he do?   
  
"What do you want?" Ron stuttered. He'd decided to be flat out blunt about it all. "Why have you come here?"   
  
"Being flat out blunt, are we?" Tom said in a taunting voice.   
  
_What a freak!_ Ron thought to himself.   
  
"Aye, I _am_ freaky," Riddle said.   
  
_What the fu—_   
  
"Don't use such obscene language," he hissed. "We really can handle this peacefully."   
  
_Screw this all!_ Ron thought to himself before he said, "_Peacefully_? I'd say that counts as the understatement of the year. You're number one evil freak Wizard! How, in Godric's name, do you think I'll believe you're going to handle," Ron struggled for words for a few seconds then finally said, "whatever it is you're doing, _peacefully_?"   
  
Tom's mouth curled into a smile. "Surrender."   
  
Ron had expected some long-winded speech from Riddle. That's what all the villains in the comics did. Weren't they all supposed to be stupid and take forever explaining what their motive was? Ron cursed inwardly to himself, realizing that this wasn't a comic, but real life and happening right now.   
  
"What?" Was all Ron could say.   
  
"Surrender to me," Tom said, thinking this was a great deal clearer than what he'd said before.   
  
Ron's face contorted into different expressions before he said the first thing on the tip of his tongue, "Why?"   
  
Riddle rolled his eyes. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you." There was a pregnant pause and seeing Ron wasn't say anything, he restated, "I'll have to kill you sooner than I have to."   
  
Ron couldn't help it anymore. He was now trembling uncontrollably. He didn't know if Riddle could see his body shaking, his eyes flooded with fear, his arms gripping his younger sister tighter, but he knew he was afraid. Ginny. Ron also didn't know what was wrong with his sister. What if she was ill? What _was_ wrong with her? Bravely, hoping to get more time, Ron spoke again, "You're Harry's enemy. Go get him."   
  
Ron smacked himself internally and cursed himself further. That was the most selfish thing he'd ever said and worst of all, he'd said it to Harry's ultimate enemy!   
  
"I mean—" Ron tried to recover, but Tom interrupted him.   
  
"Ah, the selfish type, now? Bartering your friend's life," he paused and arched an eyebrow, "_best_ friend's life for your own? Yes, I think I like you. I think I like you a lot."   
  
Ron, all the while, was shaking his head 'no,' trying to make up for what he had said. He had intended on asking why Riddle was so interested in him. _Why_ did everything always come out so wrong? And why wasn't anyone else sneaking into the kitchen? Why was Malfoy the only freak that had to be hungry at the same time? Ron cursed a bit more. Why?   
  
Ginny still hadn't stirred and though she was relatively light, Ron began sagging under the weight of her body.   
  
Suddenly, Riddle moved too quickly for Ron to realize what he was doing. Ron's eyes darted around, trying to keep his eyes on Tom, but it was nearly impossible. Finally, he stopped moving and now stood directly in front of Ron. In Tom's left hand, he held Draco by the scruff of his neck. The sound like a sword being removed from its sheath was heard and Ron saw Tom Riddle's upper canine teeth begin to enlarge. In one swift movement, Tom had lowered his head and had bitten Draco's neck! He was sucking out his blood!   
  
Completely baffled, Ron involuntarily began shouting the obvious, "You're a vam—"   
  
Ron didn't see Tom roll his eyes, but his head suddenly let go of Draco's neck, whose body was now limp and motionless. Ron mouthed wordlessly as Tom approached him. He tried not to look at the streak of blood dripping down the side of Tom's mouth. Quickly, Ron roughly shoved Ginny behind him before Riddle grabbed Ron by the collar. Though they were both the same height, Tom lifted Ron off his feet and stared into his eyes with a piercing gaze.   
  
"Why are you doing this?" Ron gasped, trying not to sound like he was pleading.   
  
"Mm," was all Ron heard from Riddle. Seconds later, Ron grunted as Tom kneed him in the stomach. Busy gasping and wheezing to regain his breath, he hardly noticed Riddle's right hand ball into a fist and make contact with his face, definitely disturbing the placement of his jaw.   
  
With that, Tom dropped Ron's body onto the ground. Draco Malfoy, Ronald Weasley, and Virginia Weasley. All unconscious and here he was with them, all alone. What to do?   
  
There was so much he could do, but there wasn't enough time. Tom sighed and cracked his knuckles, preparing himself to do the one last spell for the day.   
  


* * *

  
  
Blinky, the blue-tinted house elf of Japanese origin ran into the Gryffindor common. Seeing her panicked state, the Fat Lady had let her through.   
  
"Help!" She squealed. "HELP!" She repeated at the top of her lungs.   
  
Both Harry and Hermione came out of their dormitories. Harry stood at the top of the stairs to the boys' dormitories on one side of the common room and Hermione stood at the top of the stairs to the girls' dormitories on the other side of the common room. Both Harry and Hermione exchanged slightly childish glares before giving their attention to the panicked elf.   
  
"Weezy-kun! Weezy-chan!" Blinky squealed, wringing her fingers together all the while.   
  
"What?" Both Harry and Hermione echoed.   
  
"Great danger, Potter-kun!" Blinky said, her great pink eyes becoming watery. "The kitchen! Great danger!"   
  
With that, Blinky unexpectedly fainted, but whatever annoyance Harry and Hermione had been feeling towards one another immediately melted. They exchanged looks of worry and were down the stairs, out the portrait hole with Blinky, and off to the kitchen in an instant.   
  


* * *

  
  
Harry and Hermione spoke in hushed tones and it seemed as though they'd forgotten about their previous argument.   
  
"What do you think could have happened?" Harry asked.   
  
"I'm not sure," Hermione said in response. "But I'm sure they can tell us."   
  
Both Harry and Hermione were at the Infirmary now, sitting in two foldable chairs between two beds, one occupied by Ginny and the other by Ron. Both bodies were still unresponsive.   
  
Madam Pomfrey was uneasy about Harry and Hermione being in the Infirmary, but she finally caved in after fifteen minutes of pleading, mostly done by Hermione's words and Harry's begging eyes.   
  
"If you two cause _any_ trouble—" the nurse said with a threatening look, not needing to finish her sentence. "No bawling either!" She added. With that, she left the two of them alone with their friends.   
  
Madam Pomfrey had said Ginny had had a simple fainting spell and that she would soon be up and about and back to normal. Ron, however, had been a mess when Harry and Hermione had found him. His crumpled body was found under the window. It had looked as though someone might have thrown him against the wall, because the window above him was cracked and Pomfrey had said something about a minor concussion. Ron's jaw was also broken, but that was repaired with a wave of Madam Pomfrey's frail fingers. The only evidence of whatever it was that Ron had gone through were his tattered and bloodstained clothes that lay in a heap in an empty chair. Madam Pomfrey, whilst checking his face, had discovered Ron had coughed up blood, probably from a blow to the stomach since there weren't any bite marks on his lips.   
  
Though she was trying hard not to cry, Hermione said in a quivering voice, "This is all our fault, Harry."   
  
Harry understood what she was talking about. They sat next to one another and Harry put a hand on Hermione's back in a comforting manner. "If we weren't so—"   
  
"Ignorant," Hermione said without knowing she had read Harry's mind.   
  
"We should have been there with him!" Harry said in a furious whisper.   
  
Hermione was on the verge of bursting out in tears. She was always like this in dire situations. She'd been like this their first year at Hogwarts after Harry's encounter with the Dark Lord, every other time one of her boys had injured himself in some way and ended up in the Hospital Wing, and now, in her seventh year at Hogwarts, she hadn't changed at all. This time, however, it felt different to her. She felt liable this time.   
  
Suddenly, both Hermione and Harry tensed at a soft moaning noise to their right. It was more like whimpering, really, but nonetheless, Ginny had begun to stir.   
  
Harry began to get out of his chair, but Hermione unknowingly, and most likely accidentally, shoved Harry back into his chair on her way out of her own chair. Both worried people were at Ginny's side within seconds.   
  
Ginny blinked several times as if she was trying to stop the room from spinning around her. Slowly, she propped herself up on her elbows and was greeted by the anxious faces of Harry and Hermione. That was all it took to remind her of what had happened before she had passed out.   
  
"Malfoy!" Was the first thing that came out of Ginny's mouth.   
  
"Calm down, Gin! I'm Harry," Harry said.   
  
"Not you," Ginny said, realizing it had sounded like she was calling Harry, Malfoy. Her voice sounded like she was still rather addled, but she forgot about what she'd been talking about when she looked past Hermione's left arm. "Ron!" She squealed, pure terror present on her face.   
  
"It's alright," Hermione said in a comforting tone, though the Ginny seemed be thinking, _Alright?!_ "Madam Pomfrey's fixed him up. He'll be fine. He's just resting right now."   
  
Ginny looked at her brother some more. She remembered fainting. She also remembered her brother dropping everything to catch her, but _what_ had happened? Why was he like this, now?   
  
"Ginny," Harry said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Can you remember what happened in the kitchen?"   
  
Ginny stared at a spot on the white blanket covering her body from the waste down. Harry knew she was trying to recall the events, but he still had the urge to shake her. Anything to make her say something faster.   
  
Hermione could see the perturbed yet worried look in Harry's eyes and lay a comforting hand on Ginny's right shoulder. As if Hermione's touch had brought Ginny back to reality, she looked up with sad eyes and shook her head. "No," Ginny said to Harry. "I've no idea why Ron's like," Ginny struggled for words and finally ended with a pathetic, "that."   
  
Harry closed his eyes and it was evident that he was not pleased. It wasn't Ginny's fault she didn't know what had happened to Ron, but nonetheless, both he and Hermione were worried for their friend. Their best friend.   
  


* * *

  
  
_Alas, you're mine._   
  
Draco's eyelids snapped open. What a dream. He couldn't remember any of it except for the very last part. A dark, hooded figure had said, "Alas, you're mine." Draco shrugged it off nonetheless. The dream was probably the result from the books his father had sent him. These weren't ordinary books because they weren't in the Hogwarts libraries— not even in the restricted section! The books his father had sent were filled with horrid facts and visuals that were even more distasteful. As soon as he was finished with Hogwarts, the plan was for him to go into _the business_.   
  
Wait— why hadn't he been startled before? Draco quickly sat up. He was in a bed… a bed in the Hogwarts Infirmary! The last thing he remembered was being in the Hogwarts kitchen. Crabbe, or Goyle, or whoever, had eaten his lunch before he'd even had a fair chance at it, so he'd sneaked into the kitchen to obtain whatever bits of food he could. That was when he'd seen Weasley. That was when she… that stupid Weasley wench had petrified him. Just thinking about the embarrassing situation made his insides churn with anger, but his face, regardless, remained the same pallor.   
  
Wait-— if he'd only been petrified, why was in the Wing? Draco cursed inwardly. Why did he suddenly have to think so much about a stupid spell?   
  
Strangely, Draco had the sudden urge for… something. He abandoned his previous thoughts and focused on his jumpy tongue that quivered inside his mouth.   
  
_Blood… feed us blood…_   
  
Draco's eyes were plates on his face. He grabbed his hair and began pulling. What the hell was going on? Was he going mad? Madness and insanity was quite common in the Malfoy family bloodline. A family of pureblood geniuses wasn't _perfect_.   
  
He abruptly froze and tried to look up at his hair, but he couldn't. His long, platinum colored strands of hair weren't in his eyes! His hair had a course feeling opposed to the regular smooth and sleek feeling it had. What the hell was going on? When someone messes with a man's hair…   
  
Draco's temples reddened slightly. Despite his paleness, the only part of his face that had ever become any shade of red had been his temples, and that was only when he was profusely angry. Or perhaps Draco had a mild temper and wasn't angered easily; thus his whole face had never really turned any shade of red. But he was a Malfoy. _That_ wasn't even a possibility.   
  
Draco's sharp senses perked up and he looked to his left. In the bed next to him was Ginny Weasley and it looked as though she was sleeping.   
  
He quickly sat up in bed and gingerly tested his feet before walking over to Ginny's bed.   
  
_All alone in a room with a defenseless woman,_ Draco thought. Then he imagined what his father would do and nearly gagged.   
  
This was the same Ginny Weasley that he remembered from his second year at Hogwarts. The same runt that followed her stupid older brother and his stupid friends. So stupid. Yet she wasn't a 'little runt' anymore. Her body had obviously already taken the shape of a real woman and Draco could tell by the outline the blanket on top of her body clearly revealed. Sadly, with freckles blotched all over that crooked face of hers, no one would want her. If _that_ didn't bother anyone worth anything, then the fact that she was a _Weasley_ would.   
  
A fiery rage began to build up inside of Draco and he didn't even flinch as his nails dug into the palms of his balled up fists. This _woman_, as he'd just thought of her as, had embarrassed him! She'd just walked into the kitchens like she owned the place or something and petrified him. Just like that!   
  
He didn't think anymore on the matter, however, because he noticed his head was coming closer and closer to Weasley's face. An invisible force was pushing his mouth closer and closer to her. What was going on?   
  
_Blood… let us have some blood…_   
  
"Stop," Draco whispered so softly that Ginny wouldn't have heard him had she been awake.   
  
Draco could taste blood on his tongue. He'd bitten his lips and the blood gushed freely into his mouth.   
  
"STOP!" Draco shouted suddenly, finally freeing himself from the invisible force that had been pushing him to Ginny's head. This time, however, Weasley had woken up. Who wouldn't have? He'd just screamed for no apparent reason. Well, no apparent reason to anyone besides Draco… and the voices inside his head. Draco was practically disgusted with himself now. He just couldn't be going mad!   
  
He was breathing hard now, but at least his lips had stopped bleeding.   
  
The redhead fluttered her eyes for a moment and then looked at him. She sat up on her elbows and the kindest of smiles crept across her face. "So you're finally up," she said by way of greeting him.   
  
"Yeah," Draco said, but froze immediately and the expression on his face conveyed that he was frightened to some extent.   
  
What was up with his voice? It was so squeaky!   
  
Ginny looked at him and sat up in bed now. "What's wrong, Ron?"   
  
Draco's jaw nearly hit the floor. "What did you call me?"   
  
Ginny had a confused look on her face. "Was it something I said?"   
  
Trying to maintain his temper, Draco fumbled around the Infirmary and after knocking many things over, he bravely looked into the underside of a bedpan and suffered from the biggest shock he'd ever had.   
  
Staring back at him from the underside of such a disgusting piece of Infirmary equipment were two blue eyes, a freckle-filled face, a large head covered with violently red hair, and a face with two abnormally large ears.   
  
"I'm Weasley? Ron Weasley?" Draco squealed in horror and surprise. Immediately, his right hand covered his mouth as if it would help hide the squeaky voice that escaped his mouth every time he spoke.   
  
**Author's Note:** Whoo! Can you believe I finished chapter two? Things are getting a bit interesting! So, if Draco is in the Infirmary, trapped in Ron's body, where is Ron with Draco's body? Yes, I'll be evil and make you wait for the next chapter to find out! The real plot hasn't really been revealed yet, but it's coming. Some pairings are becoming evident too, but keep your pants on; things are just starting to bubble…   
  
**Chapter Three:** Draco, as Ron Weasley, talks to Ginny, his 'sister' and though not much is revealed, it's rather interesting. We see more of our real Ron… the poor thing doesn't have a clue about what's going on. Hermione comforts Harry, and Blaise is pissed off! Trust me, it's a lot more fun that I make it sound. ;)   
  
Lastly, a big thanks to **Eiko**, **Jonah**, and **ye ye** for reviewing the first chapter! 


	3. Switch Unveiled

**Chapter 3: Switch Unveiled**   
  
Harry violently shoved a large piece of meatloaf into his mouth and chewed it with great and evident force. Ron and Ginny didn't show up for dinner because Ginny insisted that she would rather stay in the Infirmary with Ron. Harry and Hermione couldn't get past Madam Pomfrey this time to see their friends, but Ginny had poked her head out the door to let them know she and her brother were fine and that they were sorry about dinner.   
  
Hermione felt a little more comfortable that Ginny was up and about and taking care of her brother, but she, just as anyone, could tell Harry wouldn't believe anything until he could see Ron with his own eyes. Most of the Gryffindors were whispering and sharing with one another the rumors they'd heard about 'The Ron Situation" as it had come to be called.   
  
"… And then the jaguar ended up in _my_ backyard!" Seamus Finnigan had just finished his rendition of 'The Ron Situation' for the fifth time during dinner.   
  
Harry finally said something for the first time. "All this in five hours." He was angry. It was scary when he was angry because Harry wouldn't say very much. He would just sit and stare and brood.   
  
He only spoke to Hermione. That or everyone else was so busy with 'The Ron Situation' that they couldn't hear Harry when he spoke. She tried to offer some words of comfort. "Harry, you really shouldn't worry so much—"   
  
Hermione stopped speaking and realized those were close to the exact words she'd said the last time Harry had become angry with her… five hours ago. Harry noticed what she'd perceived and broke the ice. "Malfoy." Harry spit the name out of his mouth. Harry was such a gentle creature, yet he now treated Draco's name so harshly.   
  
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, though she had an idea of what Harry was talking about.   
  
"Do you remember what Ron was talking about before we decided ignoring him and fighting over something stupid was a better idea?"   
  
The thoughts in Hermione's mind clicked and she realized what Harry was talking about. Hermione turned around and Harry looked over her shoulder to scan the Slytherin table. Harry scanned the table one more time after Hermione had turned around, but nonetheless, Draco wasn't there.   
  
"It _has_ to be him! He's got _everything_ against Ron and his family—"   
  
"Harry," Hermione said, "we can't point fingers until we're sure. I mean, Draco's not even as big as Ron, and sure he's got muscles and a really nice six-pack," Harry now arched his eyebrows, "which is beside the point," Hermione continued, "he's not strong enough or magically skilled enough to have thrown Ron across the room so hard."   
  
"So?" Harry said, as if what she'd said had had no effect. "What if he had an accomplice? What if the accomplice escaped out the window?"   
  
"And what if he hadn't?" Hermione said. "You said it yourself, Harry. Ron told us Draco wasn't in class this morning. He's been—" Hermione thought of what she might say and another thought clicked in her mind. "He's been _missing_ since this morning," Hermione said.   
  
"What?" Harry said. "You think Malfoy's been abducted or something?" Though Harry had been feeling very glum, he managed a snort at the thought. "_Why_ would anyone in his right mind _want_ to kidnap _Malfoy_, of all people?" Harry said the name this time through stifled giggles.   
  
"_Well_," Hermione exploded, "I've got an appointment."   
  
Harry was feeling a lot better now. He crossed his arms over his chest and asked, "With whom?"   
  
"Dumbledore," Hermione announced. With that, she heaved her books into her arms and marched out of the Great Hall.   
  
Harry was feeling moody and silent once again. In truth, Hermione's presence had encouraged him to think of other things. He sighed as he poured his pumpkin juice into the salad on his plate, swirled the degrading mixture about, and watched the salad go back to normal as his cup refilled with pumpkin juice once again.   
  


* * *

  
  
It was cold.   
  
Ron shivered as his shirt surrendered to the vicious winter wind.   
  
But it was autumn. It wasn't supposed to be this cold so soon.   
  
Ron suddenly realized he was sitting up. When he'd tried to open his eyes, he couldn't. He was blindfolded as well. Naturally, he tried to use his hands to undo the bindings on his head, but his hands were shackled and tied behind the chair he was sitting in. He soon discovered that his legs were tied to the chair in which he sat in and strangest of all, something was preventing him from opening his mouth.   
  
An impulsive rage of panic took hold of Ron's body. It was dark, freezing cold, he was tied up, and he didn't know where he was. He didn't even know if he was inside or outside. Who had tied him up? Was he left here to starve and die?   
  
Visions of his encounter with Riddle flashed across the backs of his eyelids. _Riddle, that bastard!_ Ron thought to himself. Ron then began struggling to the best of his ability to free himself or at least loosen one of the bindings tying him to the chair. After a minute or two, his efforts proved to be fruitless. He'd only managed to land on his right side because his immense movement had overbalanced the chair he was in.   
  
Ron lay on his side for a good two hours and his right arm was beginning to hurt since the weight of the rest of his body rested on it. He'd tried to flip over to his other side, but his attempts to do that weren't a big success. For a large portion of the first hour, he wiggled around, tried to kick, and attempted to yell for help, but his mouth was covered up, so all he could manage were a few muffled cries, but they didn't seem to reach anyone else's ears. He was terrified and it was getting harder and harder to just use his nose to breathe since moving around so much had caused his heartbeat to start racing. Ron tried to pace his breathing by telling his body to relax, but that was impossible.   
  
Without warning, Ron heard a door open.   
  
So he was inside a room. Or perhaps he was outside of a house? Nonetheless, Ron's body tensed.   
  
The person who had entered the room was now walking towards Ron. The floor was hard and the approaching person's heeled shoes could be heard, every step he took. Finally, Ron felt the intruder's presence around him and trembled as the eerie feeling of being watched bore on his shoulders.   
  
In an instant, Ron felt himself and the chair being lifted into the air. He thought for a second that someone was going to throw him across the room, but this person had merely set him upright again.   
  
Then the intruder spoke. "I did not expect you to wake so soon. I presumed you would be out for at least another five hours."   
  
_Riddle?! _Ron thought frantically at the sound of his voice.   
  
"By the way, Mr. Weasley," Riddle now ripped off Ron's blindfold with a dramatically exaggerated motion of his arm, "you look great in blonde."   
  
Ron's eyes widened. _Blonde?_ He thought to himself. Then he took in his surroundings.   
  
Nothing.   
  
It was completely dark and except for the involuntary flash of white light in his mind the second the blindfold had been removed from his eyes, the area surrounding him was the same pitch black darkness that he had been in before. Ron's eyes frantically darted about, but he suddenly gasped and pressed his back against the chair he sat in. Riddle was now directly in front of him with a nasty smirk on his face.   
  
Ron was furious now. Tom Riddle had abducted him from the Hogwarts kitchen, separated him from his friends, had him tied to a chair, and was calling him _blonde_! The nerve of this guy! Ron tried to move away from Tom, but being tied to a chair at the moment, he wasn't having the best of luck. He had a few things he wanted to say to Riddle too, but he couldn't speak. Then he remembered Riddle, in some profusely freaky way, was able to read his mind… or so he thought.   
  
_Listen up you frolicking fuck_, Ron began, thinking this greeting wasn't too harsh. Riddle arched an eyebrow and Ron heard his voice in his head. So he could read his mind. _Yes?_ Was all Tom said.   
  
_You don't know whom you're messing with! You better untie me right now and let me go! My friends— Harry, he's going to come rescue me and—"_   
  
_What else?_ Riddle interrupted. _Is your daddy bigger and stronger than my daddy is?_ Riddle asked in a mocking tone.   
  
Ron growled and it seemed as though he was trying to pierce a hole through Riddle with his glare.   
  
Riddle was now twirling a wand in his left hand. Ron took a closer look and discovered it was his wand he was twirling. Now he didn't have any way of defending himself. Then again, not being able to move his hands and all, it didn't matter whether he had his wand or not, but possession of his own wand was like owning a security blanket; it provided comfort in dreadful and unimaginable situations such as this.   
  
_Plus_, Riddle added, _I don't think Potter's going to come looking for you for a while._   
  
Ron was about to launch his telepathic philippic in response to what Tom had just said, but Tom's index and middle fingers were approaching the left side of Ron's head now. _Sit still_, Riddle's voice hissed in Ron's head.   
  
_Right_, Ron thought as he began to move around in every way he was able to.   
  
_Aye, that was your choice_, Riddle said in Ron's head. As soon as Tom's fingers made contact with Ron's head, Ron's eyes flew open for a moment before they slowly closed. The darkness around him, was still darkness, but he was once again swimming in another pool of darkness. Riddle's pool of darkness. The last thing Ron heard before he passed out was from Riddle. "I think it is finally time that you see..."   
  


* * *

  
  
Draco was feeling fine. There really wasn't much to it. He was for some unknown reason stuck in Weasley's body, was wearing _polyester_ hospital clothes, had the urge for blood, and was now speaking to Ginny Weasley, his 'sister', about Harry Potter.   
  
Right. Everything was just fine. Except for cringing every five seconds when he remembered he was sitting in the poor, dirty, gangly, freckled body of Ron Weasley! _Degrading! Disgusting! This is so screwed up and _when_ I get my hands around Weasley's neck, he's so going to be dead— wait, if I strangle Weasley, he's probably in my body and that would mean I'd be strangling myself? That is just really wrong. Weasley's in my body!_   
  
"Ron, what's wrong?" Ginny suddenly asked, knocking Draco back into reality.   
  
He realized he'd pulled a disturbing face when he'd thought about Ron being in his body.   
  
When Draco didn't say anything, Ginny said, "Well yes, I suppose what I just told would be kind of disgusting. I shouldn't have told you about the dream. Sorry!"   
  
Draco arched an eyebrow and nodded.   
  
"So, like I was saying," Ginny continued, "do you think he'll ask me to this year's Yule Ball?"   
  
Draco mouthed wordlessly at Ginny. Girl problems… _Ick_, Draco thought. He was glad he wasn't a girl.   
  
"Ron!" She pleaded. "You're with Harry every single day! Hasn't he said _anything_ about me?"   
  
"No," Draco responded back in a tone that seemed like he was asking a question.   
  
"What?" Ginny said exasperated. "But yesterday you said he was— that he had— that I was—" her voice died down.   
  
Draco smirked internally. Time for some fun.   
  
"Ginny," he said, trying to ignore the squeaky voice that protruded from his mouth, "Potter, doesn't like you, never liked you, and never will like you. You're an annoying distraction to him. All those freckles on that thick head of yours may have blocked reality, but aren't you glad you've got a _wonderful_ brother like me to hand it to you on a silver platter?"   
  
Ginny's eyes widened. She was horrified.   
  
Draco smirked. Being stuck in Weasley's body, he had the right to have some fun! "Get over it," he said. "No one will ever love you if you chase him all the time. Are you so thick that it's taken you _six_ years to realize that four-eyed nerd known otherwise as 'The Boy Who Lived' doesn't obsess over you like you choose to obsess over him?"   
  
Ginny's bottom lip trembled. This was the cruel truth, but why was Ron telling her all this _now_?   
  
Draco casually used his hand to cover his— Ron's mouth. He had the best sneer on his face, but he couldn't let his 'sister' see through him.   
  
Next, Draco received a surprise. He'd been saying all this so that he'd have Ginny hating him. Though it was the truth, no one ever actually told Ginny about Harry. Not this cruelly, that is. But Ginny suddenly leapt out of the chair she was sitting in and was now on the bed Draco sat in. Her hands were wrapped around his body and she hugged him, shaking, crying and gasping as she spoke.   
  
"Oh, Ron," she coughed a bit. "I feel so horrible!"   
  
Draco sat still. This was certainly not what he'd expected. So much for being able to read girls… maybe it only worked on Slytherins. But he'd made fun of her freckles, called Potter a nerd, insulted her intelligence, and told her she'd wasted six years of her life on the most famous boy in the Wizarding World. Now he was her hero? Her savior? The person she came to for refuge?   
  
Ginny let go of Draco's neck. "Ron?" She said. She repeated herself and said, "Did you hear what I said, Ron?"   
  
"Wha— oh, no, what'd you say?"   
  
"I said you'd better get your robes." She sniffled a bit and wiped the tear tracks off her cheeks. "Madam Pomfrey said we can leave in a bit." Ginny handed Draco Ron's wand as she stifled a sniffle.   
  
Ginny usually kept her feelings bottled up and it had startled even her that she had burst out crying, but the way Ron had decided to present the truth to her so bluntly and clearly had stricken her as strange, but she was also grateful in way. She'd have to think about it later. It was very uncharacteristic of her to express her feelings in front of everyone. It was her problem so she'd deal with it later.   
  
Ginny looked up when her brother finally grabbed the wand from her with his left hand and said, "Accio!" Ginny raised her eyebrows.   
  
Seconds later, starched and neatly folded robes flew through the air and landed in Draco's hands. _Dammit!_ Draco thought. He'd conjured his Slytherin robes to himself!   
  
He looked up and Ginny stared back at him impatiently, her hands crossed over her chest and her eyebrows slightly raised.   
  
"Well," Draco stuttered, shoving the robes to the side, "don't watch me while I change!"   
  
"Mm," Ginny said. "By the way, here," Ginny tossed him what looked like a purple beet.   
  
The purple beet was a fruit called a Darhosh. It tasted like sweet oranges and bananas combined. Many people ate it as they would eat an apple, simply to please their hunger, but this fruit also had rejuvenating powers and bountiful supplies of it could often be found in hospitals.   
  
"Pomfrey said to eat it before you go."   
  
"Oh," Draco said simply as he tossed it into his mouth.   
  
Draco looked up and Ginny still stood where she was. Finally, she moved and on her way to the door, Ginny said, "I'll wait outside for you." She paused and Draco could feel something unpleasant coming on. Ginny repeated herself. "I'll wait outside for you… Draco."   
  
Draco's body tensed. What?! How had she figured it out?   
  
Ginny slammed the Infirmary door shut and placed a locking charm on it. "Then again," for a Weasley, she had a _very_ menacing expression on her face, "we could chat a bit in here."   
  
Though Draco was trapped in Weasley's body, he was still able to hide his emotions behind a blank face.   
  
"By the way," Ginny said matter-of-factly, "Ron's right handed, and you're the only person in his year that is left handed besides Seamus Finnigan." Ginny knew random facts such as these since she'd spent the last six years of her life drooling over Harry Potter. "And Ron never folds, starches, or irons his robes, _and_ he's allergic to Darhoshes. Where's my brother?"   
  
_Crap_, Draco thought to himself.   
  


* * *

  
  
Blaise growled. The Slytherin common room was full of people now that dinner was over, but Draco was no where to be seen!   
  
His words played in her mind, _See you at dinner, love!_   
  
That had been the secret code! Her mother would be furious that she hadn't gotten the _plans_ from Draco. Where was he?   
  
Blaise walked over to the entrance of the Slytherin dungeons and pulled out her wand. "Point me," she said. The wand spun around her hand but slowly came to a halt.   
  
"The Infirmary? What's he doing in there?" Irritated, Blaise shoved her wand back down the front of her dress and marched out of the dungeons to find Draco and the plans.   
  


* * *

  
  
"My Lord, there's been a mistake."   
  
Lucius Malfoy stood in the parlor of Malfoy Manor. He was speaking to Lord Voldemort now. The only thing that illuminated the room was a fire in the fireplace, but it failed to heat the freezing cold room in which he stood. The whole Manor was frigid all year long, but evil minions were cold-blooded; it didn't affect them.   
  
The Dark Lord's voice magically projected throughout the whole room. "What is it?" Voldemort retorted. "We don't make mistakes," he hissed. "Whatever it is, fix it!"   
  
Malfoy winced at the Dark Lord's harsh tone. Though he was stressed and worried at the moment, Lucius had the same trait as his son: he was able to hide everything under what looked like a calm and composed person. His long silvery hair lay on his back, smooth, shiny and untangled. His pale face with its pointed nose remained wrinkle-free and no lines of stress were to be found on his face either. However, the Dark Lord knew all. No one could hide anything from him.   
  
"There has been an unexpected change of plans. We need more venom," Lucius told the Dark Lord in a strong and bold voice. The Dark Lord detested weakness of any kind.   
  
He heard Voldemort sigh a great chafing sigh and then he asked, "Where is Tom?"   
  
"He is in the Green House, my Lord. He is awakening the Diviner."   
  
"Ah," Voldemort replied, quite pleased. "Very well. Very well indeed. The extra venom is on its way. Use it well, my pet."   
  
Out of Lucius' mouth, a tongue that belonged to a snake slithered out, quivered a bit and retreated back into its owner's mouth. He hissed and walked out of the parlor.   
  
**Author's Note:** Wow! What an exciting chapter, eh? True, it's more confusing than pens being made in a soup factory, but soon enough, I'll explain about Tom Riddle and Voldemort, Ron and his freakiness, Blaise and _the plan_ and _the business_ and all that jazz. Patience is a virtue, you silly grasshoppers that are still reading my fic! I hope you're enjoying it!   
  
**Chapter Four:** Ginny and Draco must team up so that Draco and Ron can be in their own bodies once again, but where's Ron? In the Green House of course! Hermione has a very interesting conversation with Dumbledore and Harry's a git. Yes, look forward to it. >D   
  
Thank you to my reviewers, **Cass**, **Jonah**, **ye ye**, and the older sister I never had, **Erika**! You guys rock my toe socks, that you do! ^_^ 


	4. Devil's Advocate

**Chapter 4: Devil's Advocate**   
  
"How did you know?" Was what Draco had wanted to ask Ginny, but he didn't. The question would be answered soon enough. Weasleys were stupid like that and gave answers at the drop of a hat even if they weren't asked for them.   
  
"So, you saw through it," Draco said.   
  
"I probably wouldn't have, but your _wonderful_ acting skills kind of gave it away," Ginny said, walking casually to the bed next to Draco's. She sat down and glared at her brother.   
  
Draco was about to say something when Ginny demanded again, "Where is my brother? What have you done with him? I swear, if you've done _anything_ to harm him, I'll—"   
  
Draco snorted. "You'll what? You'll come hit me? I'm _very_ scared, Weasley."   
  
Ginny just glared back.   
  
"Oh, and so you know, it's always been my dream— a boy and his dream, to become a Weasley."   
  
Ginny could feel the sarcasm dripping from his words and Draco could sense her irritation.   
  
"Look Weasley, are you daft or something?" Ginny raised her eyes to Draco's. "You think I _want_ to be a Weasley? I've no idea why I'm stuck in his undeveloped, unattractive, useless, brainless, freckle-filled body."   
  
"Ron isn't brainless," Ginny retorted. "He's got more balls than you'll ever have!"   
  
Draco arched one of Ron's eyebrows. "I suppose it runs in the family then. We weren't talking about _balls_, Weasley, we were discussing the presence of his brain, but obviously, you're lacking one too."   
  
It felt strange to be addressed as 'Weasley' by her brother. Ginny knew it wasn't her brother that was inside Ron's body, but it was still uncomfortable. She couldn't even look into his eyes knowing it wasn't her brother inside. It was better when she only suspected someone else was in Ron's body. Ever since her encounter with Tom Riddle during her first year at Hogwarts, she'd been able to sense magical mishaps and dark magic.   
  
Ginny shivered.   
  
Draco noticed and asked, "What is it now, Weasley?" His tone wasn't caring, but more vicious as if he'd asked because her trembling was annoying him.   
  
Ginny looked up and meekly replied, "Oh, um, nothing really. I'm fine."   
  
"Whatever," Draco mumbled.   
  
Ginny pointed her wand at Draco now and said, "Oppoto swelluto."   
  
Draco looked up. Nothing happened, but a stream of blue light had left Ginny's wand tip and made contact with Draco's chest. "What'd you do to me Weasley."   
  
Ginny sighed a tired sigh. "Ron's allergic to Darhoshes. They make him swell up like a pumpkin. That's the counter curse for it."   
  
"Oh," Draco said. "Thanks, I guess."   
  
Ginny didn't say anything for a while, but Draco suddenly asked, "Weasley, you _were_ the kid that was abducted by Tom Riddle, right?"   
  
Ginny's head shot up. Why was he asking her about Tom Riddle? Ginny simply nodded in response to Draco's question.   
  
It was somewhat easier for Draco to talk to Ginny, but he still felt nervous. A question had been plaguing him for quite a while. Questions, really, but would he really get an answer if he asked?   
  
"Well," Draco stuttered, deciding it'd be alright to try. "Could I ask you something?"   
  
Draco, however, never had the chance to ask because the next moment, the door to the Infirmary slammed open.   
  
It was Blaise Zabini in a very showy red dress.   
  
"Blaise! What're you doing here?" Draco said suddenly, forgetting just for a second that he was supposed to be Ron.   
  


* * *

  
  
Hermione made her way up the narrow spiral staircase to Dumbledore's office and took great care in not hitting any of the walls. Everything looked as fragile as the man the steps led up to did. When she'd finally reached the top, she stood up straighter and made sure her hair was in place; after all, she was visiting the Headmaster and she was lucky that he was taking her appointment, so she should at least make an honest effort at looking nice and presentable.   
  
With an intake of breath, Hermione knocked on the door and the instant her hand had touched the door, it swung open and Hermione took in an even sharper intake of breath.   
  
Dumbledore's office was a mess! Someone had raided it! The desk in which he sat in was upturned, papers lay scattered everywhere, bottles had fallen over, some vases were broken, picture frames were off-center, Fawkes was flying around in circles at the top of the room, and Dumbledore lay on a bed of Mandrake plants with his eyes closed.   
  
Completely forgetting her neat and prim appearance, Hermione immediately dropped her books and fumbled through her robes for her wand. She ran to the Headmaster, and though she was feeling panicked, she shook him gently. "Headmaster," Hermione whispered. "Professor Dumbledore, _please_," she begged.   
  
To her surprise, Dumbledore stirred and opened his eyes. Hermione quickly moved out of the way as the old man sat up suddenly and yawned. He smacked his lips and looked around at his office as if everything was normal. He jumped a bit as one of the Mandrake plants beneath him took a bite at his leg, and then he finally spoke. "That was a good nap, really. Naps, they're wonderful, aren't they? Refreshes the mind." Dumbledore finally noticed it was Hermione that had woken him up. Ignoring that her normally small and alert brown eyes were now wide beyond reason and her mouth hung open as she stared at him, he said, "Of course, a brilliant minded individual like you must know of the benefits of naps."   
  
Hermione mouthed wordlessly for a couple of seconds before she nodded and closed her mouth.   
  
"Thought so!" Dumbledore jumped to his feet and stretched his arms and waved them about. After five jumping jacks, he addressed Hermione once again. "Now then, what have you come here to speak of?"   
  
Suddenly, Fawkes landed on Dumbledore's head and he beamed even more as Hermione struggled for words.   
  
The Headmaster looked ridiculous! Like a flustered peacock.   
  
"Oh," Dumbledore said, twirling a strand of braided beard between his frail fingers, "Don't mind the mess. I decided to do a bit of redesigning!"   
  
"Oh," was all Hermione could say. Pushing the sudden shock she'd just experienced to the back of her mind, she continued. "Well, Headmaster," she couldn't help but wring her fingers. Her reason for coming to Dumbledore sounded stupider and stupider the closer and closer she got to telling him what was on her mind. "It's about Harry."   
  
"Ah, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said, casually conjuring two chairs for them to sit in, "do go on."   
  
Hermione sat down on the chair she'd been offered. For some reason, she couldn't look at Dumbledore. Perhaps because she felt so childish coming to Dumbledore for such a simple reason. Hermione focused on a spot on her lap and began, "Well, I'm worried about him. He's been acting so strange lately and he's not really eating. Last night he had one bite of dinner and the night before he didn't have any dinner at all and he skipped lunch to play Quidditch. And he's looking pale and he hardly talks to anyone anymore and he hasn't slept much either. Sometimes I'll stay up to study, or I'll get up in the middle of the night to use the restroom, and I'll see Harry just sitting in front of the fire in the common room." Hermione bit her bottom lip. This sounded so stupid.   
  
She looked up to find that Dumbledore had been listening to her story very intently. Realizing Hermione didn't have anymore words to make her story make more sense, he sat back in his chair. "Ms. Granger, do not worry about Mr. Potter."   
  
Hermione furrowed her brows and her eyes asked Dumbledore to clarify what it was he was trying to say.   
  
"If I were you, I'd pay attention to other things."   
  
Hermione racked her brain for what the crazy man before her was trying to say. "But Harry—"   
  
"Is fine," Dumbledore said. "For now." He paused to see if Hermione had anything to say, but she didn't. Not now, at least. "I'm sorry to cut our meeting short, but if you'll excuse me, I've another appointment to play Exploding Snap with Mr. Crouch. I'm sure you remember who he is."   
  
Hermione grimaced internally. Of course she remembered that idiotic and arrogant man.   
  
"Don't study too hard, now. And remember to wash behind your ears, it shows character! I trust you'll be able to see yourself out?"   
  
Hermione nodded and as she did, Dumbledore disappeared with a popping sound.   
  
"But you can't apparate inside Hogwarts," Hermione whispered furiously as she walked down the spiral staircase out of Dumbledore's office.   
  


* * *

  
  
"Don't you call me by my first name, Gryffindor scum!" Blaise spat at Ron.   
  
Draco repeatedly punched himself internally for forgetting he was supposed to be Ron. If any of the Slytherins knew he'd been parading around in _anything_ Gryffindor, that would be the end of him.   
  
"What? You want me to call you by _Zabini_? How ugly! If my father—" Draco spluttered back.   
  
Ginny was glaring daggers at Draco now. Ron always tried to talk back to Slytherins, but he never mentioned his father!   
  
Blaise smirked at Ron. "Your father? Your father, what? That lump you insist on calling a _father_—"   
  
Before Blaise could finish, Ginny had jumped up. She was better than her brothers at repressing her temper, but she was dangerously angered nonetheless. "What do you want, Blaise?" Ginny said, trying to keep her voice steady.   
  
Blaise carefully scanned the Infirmary for signs of Draco, just a hint of silver hair, but not a single strand could be found. She crossed her arms over her chest and spoke to Ginny and Ron with her nose high in the air. "Nothing from the likes of you!" With a final glare, Blaise stalked out of the Infirmary.   
  
"She's lovely, isn't she?" Draco said after Blaise left.   
  
Ginny couldn't tell from his tone if he was trying to be sarcastic or if he really meant it. She chose to ignore his comment and proceeded with what was on her mind. "So, how should we go about doing it?"   
  
"Doing _it_? I'm not that kind of boy!" Draco scoffed, fluttering his lashes in a feminine manner at Ginny.   
  
Ginny rolled her eyes in disgust. _What a freak!_ Ginny thought to herself. _If I ever find out who did this, that person is so going to die the most painful death for making me waste my time with Draco Malfoy!_ Now she sighed and forced herself to look into Draco's— her brother's eyes. She couldn't help but notice that even though she was staring into Ron's eyes, they were different because it was Draco who was looking through them. Ron's eyes were always playful, or nervous, or alert, but never so blank. She could always see right through her brother when she looked into his eyes— feel what he was feeling, and this was probably one of the reasons she favored him most out of all her brothers. True, she loved all her siblings dearly, but besides the fact that Ron was barely older than she was, he was the most like a true friend.   
  
She remembered how she had had no friends in her first year at Hogwarts since she was so introverted as soon as she began writing to Tom Riddle. Ginny was always a bit quiet, but knowing Tom… he had caused her to think that nothing else and no one else in the world mattered, but he was wrong. Harry and Ron had told her of their adventure into the Chamber of Secrets many times anew. Even though Ginny's survival had become nearly hopeless, it had been Ron that had come with Harry to rescue her. Sure, the idea was completely stupid, but it was an act of the heart and of emotion. The only reason Harry had done the actual saving was because of an unstoppable collapse of rocks overhead. Her brother, Ron, not the person in front of her, wherever her real brother was— he was always there for her. But this time, he was the one who needed her.   
  
"Tough crowd," Draco said, dropping his innocent girl act. Ginny tumbled back into reality and realized she'd been staring into his eyes for a minute or two.   
  
"No, I mean," Ginny stuttered, hiding her frustration, "How should we go about switching you and Ron back into your respective bodies?"   
  
"What makes you think Weasley's in _my_ body?" Draco asked even though that was just what he suspected as well.   
  
"Well, if you're in Ron's body, where else would Ron be?"   
  
Draco placed his left hand on his chin, arched his left eyebrow (Ginny thought it looked funny because Ron only knew how to arch his right eyebrow), and began to think. Firstly, why would anyone have him and Weasley switch bodies? _What a sick-minded psycho_, Draco thought. Next, why did he still have the craving for blood? He hadn't forgotten about the voices in his head. He'd heard later after his second year at Hogwarts that Potter had been hearing voices and even though it wasn't his fault for hearing them, it was never good to be hearing voices that other people couldn't hear and it most likely wasn't any better if the voices asked to be fed blood. Perhaps it was Ron Weasley that was mad and the people that lived in his head were now bothering him. Then again, why would the voices inside Weasley's head be talking of blood, the Dark Lord's water and wine?   
  
"Hold on," Ginny said softly, interrupting Draco's thoughts. Ginny fumbled through her robes for her wand and said, "Accio Ron!"   
  
A second later, Draco was lifted from the Infirmary bed and was flying across the room headed straight for Ginny. She tried to back away from her brother's approaching face that was full of surprise, but she wasn't quick enough. Draco's head made contact with Ginny's body where her wand had been— in front of her chest. With his head nestled between Ginny's breasts, he and Ginny toppled backwards and were sprawled on the floor, Draco lying on top of Ginny, head still on her bosom and Ginny spread-eagle under Draco's long body.   
  
Ginny immediately felt tension flood her body. She was breathing hard now and here eyes were wide open, once again staring into her brother's eyes— Draco's eyes.   
  
Draco was obviously taken by surprise when he'd collided head first into a woman's chest, but now, still on top of Ginny, he lifted his upper body off of her, holding himself up with his two hands placed on the ground on either side of Ginny. He cocked an eyebrow and looked into her dark blue eyes. She stared up at him, her eyes full of shock and maybe even horror. It was interesting how all her brothers had sparkling light blue eyes whilst she had sad pools of dark blue in her eyes. He liked those pools.   
  
Ginny suddenly shivered and Draco felt it. He cursed inwardly for even thinking about Ginny's eyes as if he were interested in her and abruptly rolled off of her.   
  
_Blood… it is near…_   
  
Draco's pupils dilated. Not the voice again! Ginny finally sat up and choosing that it was best to ignore the voice in his head, Draco began his cheekiness. "Well Weasley, I know I'm tempting, but how about I pencil you in for a time when I'm not in your brother's body? It wouldn't really go too well with… anyone. If you know what I—"   
  
_BLOOD! Feed us…_   
  
"Argh!" Draco said suddenly, clutching his head with both his hands.   
  
Ginny was about to say, "Shove it, Malfoy," or something similar, but instead, she asked, "Malfoy, what's wrong?"   
  
Ginny almost pitied him at that moment. Maybe her emotions were biased since it was her brother's face she looked at whenever she spoke to him, but his eyes hadn't fooled her, so what was it that made her feel sorry for him?   
  
Draco only slightly loosened his fingers' grip on his head and gave a weak smile, or smirk, or sneer— whatever it was, and said, "Nothing, Weasley. What's wrong with you? Not that that _experience_ will keep me particularly scarred for life, but—"   
  
"I was going to see if I could make the real Ron come here," Ginny said, realizing how pathetic her idea had been.   
  
"You idiot, your magic can't work long distance—" Draco cut himself off as he moaned again.   
  
_BLOOD! FEED US BLOOD! Serve your master and feed us **BLOOD**! The one true Lord… give him blood,** feed us blood**!_   
  
"The Dark Lord?" Draco gasped more in a question's form.   
  
"You-Know-Who?" Ginny asked.   
  
"Of course I know who the Dark Lord is!" Draco spat back.   
  
Ginny realized the stupidity of her You-Know-Who remark. Many people in Slytherin house were able to refer to the Dark Lord as Voldemort.   
  
"What about the Dark Lord?" Ginny tried again.   
  
Draco had been sitting up straight on the floor, but now he was on his hands and knees, obviously in pain. The pain must have been great, because Ginny had never seen Draco Malfoy reveal his feelings so freely. He had ceased keeping a blank face and wasn't wiping away the sweat sliding down the side of his face and back of his neck.   
  
"Malfoy…" Ginny began.   
  
"Get out of my head!" Draco suddenly burst out.   
  
"Who's in your head?" Ginny asked. "Ron— I mean Draco," Ginny paused a bit. This was one of the first times she'd called him by his first name. When she looked up at Draco in her brother's body, she could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest.   
  
Eyes wide with horror, Ginny bellowed, "Madam Pomfrey! Help, Draco— I mean, Ron, he's—"   
  
Ginny never got a chance to finish, however, because Draco's eyes suddenly flew wide open before he fainted onto Ginny's lap.   
  
"Malfoy?" She asked, timidly stirring his shoulder. "Draco, are you alright?" She didn't realize at the time what a stupid question this was. Of course, he didn't answer, as he was unconscious. And why hadn't Madam Pomfrey come in yet? She had an epiphany as she realized that the locking spell she had placed on the door also prohibited sound from escaping through either end of the door that was locked.   
  
Ginny sighed a heavy sigh as she wondered what to do. She thought hard before she finally concluded with one word: "Harry."   
  


* * *

  
  
After Hermione had left him at dinner, Harry didn't really have much of an appetite to finish his dinner, so he went back to his dormitory in the middle of dinner only after giving Neville his slice of fickleberry pie. He now sat on the very center his crimson covered bed, his arms clutching his knees, which were curled into his chest. Every now and then he would heave a great sigh and at one point, he had tried reading his favorite book, _Quidditch Through the Ages_, but even that ceased to cheer him up and he was back to sighing once again. True, Ron was going to be all right, but he still felt horrible. He knew Hermione had noticed by now that he hadn't been eating much and the bags under his eyes were quite evident as well. Even he had noticed he was looking paler, but who could blame him?   
  
_If only they knew—_ Harry had begun thinking when a tapping on his door interrupted him.   
  
The curtain of eyelashes hiding Harry's brilliant eyes gave way as he looked up, his green eyes shimmering as he did so. The visitor knocked once again.   
  
Who could it be? Everyone was still supposed to be at dinner.   
  
"Harry?"   
  
It was Ginny.   
  
"Harry, it's me," Ginny said, "Can I come in?"   
  
Harry searched his brain for what to say. He'd really been enjoying the silence— it was part of the reason he didn't mind staying up so late at night. Finally he replied, "Um… not now Gin, I'm kind of busy."   
  
He'd tried to be nice, but Ginny was uncharacteristically obtrusive today. "Busy?" She questioned hysterically. "What're you so busy with? What're you doing?"   
  
Harry screwed up his face and finally replied with a pathetic, "I'm busy brooding! Just leave me alone today." Harry said. Then he remembered he was talking to Ginny and added, "Please."   
  
"Harry Potter, I'm coming in this very instant, so if you're stark naked or anything, put some clothes on!" Ginny yelled through the door. "Unlock this door!" Ginny screamed, jiggling the handle to his room. She growled a low growl and wand in hand, she whispered, "Alohomora," and the door swung open to reveal Harry still sitting on his bed.   
  
"Since when did brooding require nudity?" Harry inquired, but there was no time for Ginny or Harry to even have the slightest moment of amusement from his joshing. The moment the door had opened, Harry had briefly scanned Ginny before his eyes rested on the floating object next to her.   
  
However, what Harry had seen wasn't an object, it was a person. It was Ron Weasley.   
  
Immediately abandoning his so-called brooding composure, Harry leapt off his bed and ran to the door. "Ginny, what happened? If he's not alright, why'd you take him out of the Wing?"   
  
Ginny suspired and explained everything that had happened in the Infirmary and everything she had learned from the Ron who was really Draco, ignoring Harry's sudden gasping and wide eyes. He was actually rather calm for a person just digesting a story like the one Ginny was telling Harry.   
  
Running the story through his head one more time, just to clarify, Harry pointed a slightly trembling finger at Ron's body. "You mean to tell me that's Malfoy?"   
  
"Yes, Harry, and I think something's wrong with him. He fainted and it was like he was hearing voices. He was acting like his head was going to explode."   
  
"Mm, I know the feeling," Harry mumbled as he remembered the basilisk's hissing in his ears during his second year.   
  
Ginny was still at the door and the rest of the Gryffindors would be coming back from dinner any minute. "Harry, are you going to let me in or not? I think," Ginny searched for words for a minute before finally saying, "I think you're the only one who can help. The only one who might understand."   
  
Harry began looking squeamish. "You mean we're going to have to fix whatever's in Malfoy's head?"   
  
"Harry! Ron's _missing_! Haven't you understood that yet? And this," Ginny said, pointing to Ron's body, "is Draco Malfoy. He's not strong enough to cast magic that can make two souls switch places, so it must've been someone related to Draco, if you know what I mean."   
  
The Ron beside Ginny was still unconscious. "Gin, I think you should go to sleep early tonight. It's been a long, rough day for you and you ought to get some rest. Totally understandable about—"   
  
"Harry? Aren't you listening to me? Don't you believe me?" Ginny exploded, her eyes begging for the answer she hoped for.   
  
Harry thought over everything he had just learned. How could Draco possibly be in Ron's body? It simply wasn't possible and Madam Pomfrey had looked him over quite thoroughly down at the Infirmary. Harry remembered the countless times he had landed himself in the Infirmary for injuries, however abnormal their causes were, but Madam Pomfrey, fussy as she was, always knew what to do with his detriments.   
  
Harry had cast his lashes over his eyes once again, and when he looked up, Ginny could feel the doubt Harry felt.   
  
"Harry, he's your best friend," Ginny pleaded one last time.   
  
"But wouldn't Madam Pomfrey have noticed something?" Harry asked.   
  
"Harry, you know first-hand that identity switches can't be detected by nurses and doctors—"   
  
"But he's _Malfoy_!" Harry suddenly burst out, surprising both Ginny and himself.   
  
"Harry!" Ginny said, backing away slowly, disbelief apparent on her face.   
  
The rest of the Gryffindors were coming back from dinner now and realizing her time was short, she said what she had to say quickly. "Who are you, Harry? So what if this is Malfoy?" Ginny said, motioning once again to the unconscious body next to her. "Don't you want to know where Ron is?"   
  
Flustered beyond reason, Ginny grabbed her wand before Harry could reply and yelled, "Petrificus totalus!" Her favorite spell. Harry stiffened immediately and Ginny stiffly stepped over his body, fumbled through the case at the foot of Harry's bed and drew out a silvery cloak— Harry's invisibility cloak. She turned to Harry and announced, "I'm borrowing this!" With that, she slammed the door to Harry's dormitory shut, threw the invisibility cloak over Ron's unconscious body and yelled down the stairs to the first person she saw, Dean Thomas. "Dean, I think Harry might need your help, he was making out with his mirror when he petrified himself."   
  
Dean's handsome young face contorted and was soon dotted with confused wrinkles as he hurried up the stairs. Before he entered the boys' dormitories, he turned to see Ginny at the bottom of the stairs, rabidly walking across the common room towards the stairs that led up to the girls' dormitories. Harry really must have done it this time. Dean took a closer look and noticed Ginny was walking with her right arm slightly hovering at her side, her wand pointing at an angle as if she were pointing it at someone walking next to her who was half her size.   
  
"Oh sure, besides the fact I got an A+ on my Potions paper, everything's completely normal." Dean shook his head slowly as he pushed open the door to the dorms.   
  


* * *

  
  
Before she had gone to sleep, Ginny had drawn the curtains of her four-poster all the way around the bed so that no one could see in. She awoke suddenly to the sound of girls bustling about getting themselves dressed and ready for the day, but soon realized that wasn't what had awoken her. Ginny blinked once or twice to clear her vision and looked up to see her brother's scowling face look back at her.   
  
While Draco had been unconscious, Ginny had tied him to a chair with some special rope she had taken from Fred and George's stash of magical goodies. Draco couldn't move anything but his head since Ron's hands and feet were tied to the chair he sat in. She had gagged him as well and had slept with her wand under her pillow. The chair was magically secured on her bed at the moment.   
  
Ginny grabbed her wand and with a wave, the gag that had been on her brother's mouth disappeared and his scowl could be more clearly seen.   
  
"How long have you been up?" Ginny said as a way of greeting him.   
  
"Three hours," Draco said tonelessly as he glanced at the shimmering clock numbers that were enchanted onto a portion of the curtain by Ginny's head. "Do you know how boring it's been? You don't even snore! None of you do!" Ginny could only stare. "By the way, thanks for letting me spend the night in a girls' dormitory, but tying me up was a bit too much don't you think? How was I supposed to play with each one of you before morning? Oh well, maybe tomorrow—"   
  
"Draco!" Ginny gasped, highly appalled. She made certain to keep her voice at a low whisper so none of the other girls would hear her.   
  
Draco wore an innocent look on his face. "What? I just wanted to be fair, you know—"   
  
"Do you not even remember yesterday?"   
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco said in a haughty tone. "And I demand you untie me this instant. I have to use the little boys' room, if you don't mind."   
  
"I do mind," Ginny said. "You're not going into the bathroom while you're like," Ginny struggled for words and finally said, "_that_!"   
  
"Oh, very logical, Weasley. Are you proposing I hold everything in while we march up to Malfoy Manor to undo this bloody mess? Well, why didn't you say so before? Before we leave, how about some tea and disembowelment, too?" Draco wouldn't look at Ginny's face. His lips were a thin, slanted line on his face and he glared at the chair handle that his left hand was tied to.   
  
"Go?" Ginny finally said, breaking the silence.   
  
Draco turned to her with a bored expression on his face, his left eyebrow arched.   
  
"Where are we going? You said 'before we go'. Well, where're we going?" Ginny asked again.   
  
"To Malfoy Manor, you pillock," He replied, still not looking into her eyes.   
  
Ignoring Draco's pillock statement since she was desperate to have her brother back, she persisted, "How do you know we go to Malfoy Manor."   
  
"I don't," Draco said softly, but nonetheless with the same malice he'd used to speak to her all morning. "I had another dream."   
  
"_Another_ one? You mean you have strange dreams too—"   
  
"What is this, Weasley? Twenty questions? Use that damn stick in your hand to untie me _now_!" Draco was looking at her now, nostrils flared, eyes only slits on his face, teeth barred.   
  
Ginny lifted her hand and softly uttered, "Finite incantatem." The ropes fell away from Draco's hands and feet and Draco fell over onto the bed because the chair wasn't fixed to the bed anymore. He was still in the Infirmary clothes. He got up quickly, straightened his garb and began to mess with his hair, but then he remembered it wasn't his hair so he left it alone.   
  
"How do I get out of here?" Draco asked monotonously.   
  
"You're Ron," Ginny said. "The girls are used to seeing you in here. Just walk out."   
  
"Well, I guess Weasley doesn't have it off that bad after all, allowed to parade around the girls' dormitory whenever he wants."   
  
"Sad he's not a pervert like you, mm?" Ginny said, not able to bear Draco's sarcasm anymore.   
  
"Ha. Ha." Draco replied bitterly. He hated to be made fun of. He wasn't part of a joke's punch line, he was supposed to be the puncher.   
  
Draco was obviously useless; not even showing any sign that he cared that he was stuck in a body that wasn't his own. How was she going to find the real Ron? One thing was for sure: No help from Harry, that git.   
  
As he prepared to push open the curtain, he turned and looked at Ginny, the malignant expression melting away from his face just slightly. "Are you going to sit there all day, Weasley?" Even though Draco called her whole family by their last name, Weasley, each one had a different tone and this one was hers. She looked up and didn't say anything. "Well, it's hard to get to the Manor just sitting around in your nightgown." Ginny had an amazed expression on her face suddenly. Draco Malfoy, ultimate doer of bad, was going to help her? "And you had better get some _real_ clothes. I refuse to go anywhere with you if you come dressed like—" Draco pointed to a picture beside Ginny's bed, her whole entire redheaded family smiling and waving furiously at them, "—that."   
  
Draco turned around and stepped out from the secret barrier Ginny's four-poster had created. "Wait," Ginny said without warning, "Um… thanks for helping me out, Draco." With that, Ginny's cheeks were covered in a blanket of red and she couldn't look at Draco's face for some odd reason, even though the face she would see even if she did look up would be her brother's face.   
  
"I'm not helping you, Weasley. How degrading and low-class could I get? You think I want to stay trapped in this ugly body forever?" Draco snorted. "I think not." Ginny stared bewildered as her thoughts about a different Draco were in the process of being turned into oblivion in her mind. "Now get ready. We leave after breakfast."   
  
Without another word, Draco began walking towards the door. Even though he had been amazed that thirteen girls had said 'hi' to him— to Ron on his way out, he didn't even change the expression on his face.   
  
**Author's Note:** This chapter was longer than all the other chapters I've written. Anyway, yay! Draco and Ginny are off to Malfoy Manor, Harry's a git beyond reason, Dumbledore's plain crazy, and Hermione's perplexed. Could things get any better? As for Ron, sorry, there was no room for him in this chapter, but he'll be in the next one.   
  
**Chapter Five:** Look forward to the Draco and Ron confrontation! Remember that Ron still hasn't realized he's in Draco's body. Harry and Hermione realize Ginny and Ron are missing as well. It's a lot more exciting than I make it sound.   
  
Hugs to my chums, **Jonah**, and **Eiko** for reviewing the previous chapter! :) 


	5. Evil in the Shadows

**Chapter 5: Evil in the Shadows**   
  
_You can't change it. No one can. It's fate, dear friend._   
  
Ron groggily came back to his senses, feeling warmer than he had been and only remembering the last part of what he'd dreamt. He rolled over slightly and obtained that he wasn't tied to a chair anymore, but the strange device covering his mouth still remained secured to his head. It took him a moment to realize the atmosphere surrounding him was actually quite cold, but wherever it was that he had been, was even colder than where he was now.   
  
Wait where _was_ he?   
  
He finally opened his eyes. When his consciousness had surrendered to the dark, the room he had been in was pitch black. Now it seemed as though the unnatural darkness had been lifted to be replaced by the natural black cloak of the night sky, speckled with winking stars. He took in his milieu and realized he was in some sort of plant house, though most of the green monsters around him looked to him as if they only feasted on fresh meat.   
  
Ron sat up abruptly, backing away from what looked like a Venus Flytrap but looked behind him right before he ran into a bed of Devil's Snare babies.   
  
His eyes adjusted and he realized he was in some sort of greenhouse. As far as he knew, greenhouses usually had entrances and exits. Pulling himself together, Ron timidly began to edge his way around the dark greenhouse, involuntarily housing a frightened look on his face. He bumped into the walls of the greenhouse every now and then and cursed the object covering his mouth. Ron wished desperately to have his wand, but wishes don't always come true.   
  
After an estimated fifteen minutes of walking in circles, Ron concluded that the greenhouse he was held in was somewhat small and everything living in it, as he'd suspected, only fed on fresh meat (which was confirmed after he saw a baby mandrake pounce on a squirrel and gobble it up mercilessly). During his search of the greenhouse, he'd also found a door. Without his wand, his efforts at opening the locked exit were fruitless.   
  
Ron finally walked back to the spot that he had awoken. He sat down and thought of the dream he'd had in his deep slumber. He remembered seeing sudden flashes of people. He'd seen Harry and Hermione both looking depressed. Dumbledore had appeared just for a second, and Snape was there too. He'd also seen his sister Ginny, laughing as she ran through some fields, her flaming hair blowing behind her. The last person he remembered seeing was Draco Malfoy, bowing courteously to his younger sister as if asking her to dance, then cocking an eyebrow at him and lifting his head towards him slightly, revealing a mischievous grin.   
  
Suddenly, Ron heard some rattling. The door! The exit to the greenhouse, someone was attempting to open it. Forgetting his fear and forgetting the number of people who could be on the other side of the door, Ron sprang up and dashed to the door.   
  
"Ow!"   
  
"Move out of the way, you brat!"   
  
"_You're_ the brat. Brat!"   
  
Ron arched an eyebrow. The voices sounded so familiar.   
  
A second later, the door opened and when Ron saw who stood at the door, he mouthed wordlessly and nearly fainted all over again.   
  


* * *

  
  
Harry once again had fallen asleep on a heavily cushioned chair in front of the fire. Hermione glided down the stairs leading down from the girls' dormitory in hopes of finding her friend there. It was still pretty early in the morning, so no other students were stationed in the common room at the moment.   
  
Hermione stood in front of the chair where Harry slept. His neck was tilted slightly and she knew he'd have a bad ache there when he woke up. Harry's messy hair looked even messier than usual as he slept, sitting up in the chair. His jet-black hair fell over his eyes; it had been a while since his last haircut. His face looked pale, but since recently, the whole pale look was considered normal for Harry. She wished he would tell her what was bothering him. Hermione glanced at Harry's clothes, the same ones he had worn yesterday, except they were now crumpled. She wondered how his clothes could look so crumpled when he'd gone to sleep sitting up in a chair. She looked to the floor and saw Harry had kicked his shoes off his feet. She knelt down to pick them up when he suddenly stirred.   
  
Hermione, Harry's shoes still in her hands, looked up sheepishly. "Good morning!" She said somewhat cheerily.   
  
Harry looked around for his glasses but realized he had gone to sleep with them on his face. He squinted a bit and looked at the enchanted clock across the room. It was 7:30 AM; he had gotten two hours of sleep— much better than last night. Harry looked up suddenly and realized Hermione must've said something since she was casually staring at him. "Oh, hey," Harry said, blushing slightly.   
  
Harry got to his feet and held onto the chair that he had fallen asleep on to steady himself. He suddenly remembered why he had come into the common room last night in the first place. Harry's head shot up and he looked straight at Hermione. "Ginny!" He said in a half whisper.   
  
"Yeah," Hermione said. "I actually came down here to look for her. I let her borrow my white blouse day before yesterday and I was wondering if she still had it. I felt like wearing it today—"   
  
Totally ignoring what she was saying, Harry interrupted Hermione, "You mean Ginny's not in her bed, at _7:30AM_?"   
  
"Well, she could've gotten up to get an early start—"   
  
Not waiting to hear the rest of what Hermione was saying, Harry dashed past her towards the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories, only muttering a faint, "Crap," on his way.   
  
"Harry!" Hermione gasped. By the time she had arrived at the foot of the stairs Harry had gone up, he was already on his way down them wearing a preoccupied expression on his face. Nearly knocking Hermione off her feet, he was now up the stairs of the boys' dormitories and Hermione hurried after him. She was often in the boys' dormitories since Harry and Ron were her two best friends, so entering the boys' rooms wasn't anything for her to hesitate about.   
  
When she'd arrived next to Harry's four-poster bed, she found Harry rummaging through his belongings. After creating a small mess, his right hand emerged from under his bed, holding the Marauder's Map. Realizing he needed a wand to make it work, Harry scanned the room for his own, but realizing he'd left it down in the common room, he finally reached into the hip pocket of Hermione's robes and used her wand instead.   
  
Harry involuntarily looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember the exact words he needed to say to make the map work. His eyes glinted and he whispered (since the rest of the boys were still sleeping), "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."   
  
Instantly, ink lines began to spread across the beat up piece of parchment in Harry's hands. Lines went straight, then suddenly curved creating hallways, and then went up and down and up and down again creating what looked like stairs. Soon, letters were formed across the top; great, curly green words and the last addition to the map were labeled dots.   
  
Harry looked at the top right corner in the boys' dormitory of the Gryffindor common room and found two dots labeled "Harry" and "Hermione".   
  
"Ginny! She's not here!" Harry hissed, scanning the map one more time.   
  
Realizing what Harry was getting at, Hermione snatched the map away from him, squinted her eyes and look through the map. Harry was still in a dazed shock. If he hadn't been so thick last night, Ginny probably wouldn't have done something so… pointless… stupid? Hermione, her eyes frantic, looked down at Harry who was sitting on his bed. "Ron's not in the castle either."   
  
Harry took the map back from her and narrowed his eyes, focusing on the bottom left corner of the map: the Slytherin common room. About a minute later, Harry, looking very grave, stared into Hermione's eyes. "Malfoy's not here either."   
  


* * *

  
  
Ron stared horrorstricken at the two familiar people standing at the door. One was his younger sister Ginny, her innocent face the last he'd expected to see in a place like this.   
  
"Finite Incantatem," Ginny said, her wand pointed at the lock holding Ron's mouthpiece unto his head. As soon as the lock had unhinged, Ginny stepped forward and embraced her brother in a tight hug. "I missed you so much," Ginny said softly, stifling some sniffles. She finally let go of him and asked, "Are you alright?"   
  
Ron stared at her sister, completely flabbergasted. Alright? How in Merlin's name could he be _alright_ of all things at a time like this! He finally managed to speak and his voice came out audible, but croaky since he hadn't spoken in nearly two days, "What is the meaning of this? Him? It?"   
  
Ginny turned her head slightly and saw 'this', 'him', and 'it' were all referring to Draco. "You mean you don't know…?" Ginny asked, trailing off.   
  
"_I know_ that this sodding, impersonating git is prancing around in my clothes being me!" Ron said, his short temper already clear in the tone of his voice.   
  
"Same goes for you, Weasley," Ron's impersonator said in a boring voice. He was leaning on one side of the door, arms crossed over his chest, red hair uncharacteristically combed neatly, clothes looking ironed and starched, and his face revealing a state of profuse boredom.   
  
_That drawl_, Ron thought. The tone used when saying his last name. Something finally clicked in his head and Ron looked at Ginny furiously as he flung out an arm towards the imposter and roared, "MALFOY?!"   
  
Ginny gave a soft squeal, whatever she'd tried to say had come out completely imperceptibly.   
  
"By the way, Weasley, I'll have you know you're paying for my leather pants even though it probably costs more than your bloody house," Draco said to Ron. Ron mouthed wordlessly, trying to get at what Malfoy was saying when Draco continued on, "Those are Armenian leather pants you're wearing."   
  
Ron's eyes leaving the smug look on his imposter's— Malfoy's face, lowered his gaze at his knickers. The lighting was very dim and he realized why he had felt so cold when he had first awoken in the unnaturally cold room and why he felt his lower half was especially revealing now. He was wearing tight black leather pants! _Armenian_ leather pants as Malfoy had put it, and there was a large rip down the bottom of his left pant leg.   
  
Draco reached into his back pocket and removed something compact from it and handed it to Ron. "Normally, only I touch this, but hey, you are me at the time, and this is getting rather boring, so when you look into my mirror, your face, bah— _myM_ face, should look somewhat interesting… humoring… less boring than now?"   
  
Realizing what Malfoy might be getting to, Ron tried to catch Ginny's eye, but she was trying her best not to look at him. Did he really look that horrible? Trying to hide his trembling fingers, Ron opened the pearly white pocket-sized mirror, a faint click sounding from it as he did. He jumped a bit at the click; the mirror was actually a brush and mirror stuffed into one thing. Removing the brush away from the silver pool of truth, the mirror, Ron first gazed intently into Draco's prized possession, but that look of intent soon turned into stark terror.   
  
Around his chin were red lines from where the object that had covered his mouth used to sit, but they seemed even redder since the skin covering his face was so pale he could probably have success hiding in snow. The red lines were the least of his worries, however. His eyes were a cloudy shade of gray, looking into the pocket-sized mirror from slim slits in his head even though it felt as though his eyes were bigger than they seemed. His eyelashes were long and tickled the skin below his silvery eyebrows or just below his eye whenever he opened or closed his eyes. He looked up and noticed platinum colored strands of hair hovered just above his eyes. He readjusted the mirror and squealed a low squeal of surprise. Blonde and red, they weren't two colors that were easily confused. He took a closer look, _silver_? It was so neatly combed, too, but it was so long! Some stray wisps of hair were tucked behind his ears— were they his ears? What was going on? Next he examined his nose. It was so pointy! It was elegantly carved and pasted with care onto the center of his face, yet the sharpness of it ruined any beauty something as insignificant as a nose may have been able to convey. Sharper yet was his chin. The whole entire countenance he was staring at was neatly arranged on his head, everything had a sharp and succinct distinctness leading one to believe anything about the person who wore the face. However, if only focusing on just one spot of the face at a time, as he was doing now, the experience was enough to make one's stomach lurch. He felt that if he bowed his head just a little, he might be able to poke a hole into his shirt. His shirt! The last he remembered, he'd been wearing a checkered green shirt that had been handed down to him from Charlie. Now he wore a silky black shirt… it looked expensive too. Ron looked further down his body and just as Malfoy had pointed out, his shirt was tucked into a pair of black Armenian leather pants! The shoes hidden under his pants looked expensive, too.   
  
Not bothering to see if his red socks were still on his feet, Ron abruptly snapped the mirror shut and clenched it hard in his fist. "MALFOY! WHAT THE SODDING HELL IS THE MEANING OF THIS? WHAT KIND OF SPELL DID YOU PUT ON THIS BLASTED MIRROR—?"   
  
"Spell?" Draco interupted in a calm and somewhat bored tone of voice. "Here I am," Draco indicated, using his hands to showcase himself, "in _your_ oversized shoes, in _your_ unstylish red socks, in _your_ baggy blue jeans, in _your_ filthy green shirt, in your freckle-filled face, under _your_ mop of sodding red hair." Draco paused and suddenly put his left arm around Ginny, surprising her a bit by pulling her close, and then added, "With _your_ sister." And quickly he added one more comment, "By the way, mirror's pronounced 'meer-ir', not 'meer'." He ended snickering quietly.   
  
Ron was fuming now. How could he be stuck in Malfoy's body? _That's disgusting!_ He thought, not knowing it was one of the first things Draco had thought to himself as well. He was driven out of his thoughts at hearing a crack. He'd been squeezing the compact mirror so hard that an inch-long crooked crack had appeared on the top of it. Draco still had the smug expression on his face; he obviously hadn't noticed the minute sound from the crack emitted from his precious mirror.   
  
Ron nearly charged at Draco, but he was startled beyond reason at what he saw Draco doing next. Draco removed his arm from Ginny's shoulder, who still looked as though she was going through the last bits of shock. He bowed slightly, his right knee bent a little, placed behind his bent left leg that was supporting most of his body. His right hand was across his stomach and his left arm extended towards Ginny, open-palmed. Draco lifted his head high enough so Ron was just able to see the sly grin snaking across his face and the cocked left eyebrow dancing above his left eye.   
  
Except for the fact that Ron was seeing his own body perform these actions, this was just as he'd seen Malfoy in his dream! Ron was completely dry-mouthed now.   
  
Confused, Ginny took a step back, placing her hands in front of her, her way of refusing the offer. Then she hissed in an iritated whisper, "Dance? You want to _dance_? We're here to rescue Ron, undo you two, and leave! How in Godric's name—"   
  
Draco had slowly abandoned his elegant pose and now stood tall once again. "Dance? Hell, Weasley, I didn't even say anything!"   
  
"Then why the _hell_ did you have to bow, like that—" Ginny stopped speaking suddenly and stuttered a bit. Ron, her brother in Draco's body stood staring at her with his jaw hanging open. She realized suddenly Ron was staring above her head. "Ron?" Ginny incquired in a caring tone.   
  
"Why?" Draco said, ignoring Ron. "Let me introduce you to some one."   
  
Ginny shivered a little. Now she could feel the presence of someone behind her and it felt eerier than the feeling one gets when he or she feels someone else's eyes on one's body. "W-w-what?" Ginny said lightly, feeling a bit dizzy.   
  
Ginny let out a high pitched scream when she felt someone's snakelike fingers touch her right shoulder. She jumped and her legs refused to hold her up, so now she sat on her knees, her right hand covering her mouth.   
  
Someone with beautiful strands of straight, silvery blonde hair, a pointy nose and chin, and a somewhat pale complexion stepped out from the shadows.   
  
Ginny heard Ron gasp and then Draco bowed once again, looked up at the man who had walked into the room and in his velvety voice he said, "Hallo, Father, so glad you could join us."   
  
**Author's Note:** So, is Draco evil now? Will he hand over Ginny and Ron to his bad daddy? Ha! As if I'd tell you now… wait until the next chapter! And sorry the chapter was so short. It was only half as long as the last chapter, but then again, the last one was pretty long! Oh well… =p   
  
**Chapter Six:** Draco's somewhat upset, but D/G have a blunt and uninteresting little conversation. Tom Riddle confronts Ron once again, and Harry and Hermione are back in the story!   
  
This chapter is dedicated to the big sister I never had: Erika! *huggle squashles* She's always an e-mail away and I can rant to her whenever I want! Her comforting words are like lights from Heaven, and her presence online is always like a blessing. Erika's a wonderful *cough* old lady *cough* friend and though our age difference is about ten years, I'm profusely happy and glad that I know her. :)   
  
Thanks to **Jonah**, **bitchy brunette**, **Erika**, **Lily of the Shadow**, **Bubble**, and **evil*grrl*13** for commenting on the last chapter! So many commenters! Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside now! ^_^ 


	6. The Diviner

**Chapter 6: The Diviner**   
  
Ron gasped aloud when Draco's father came out from the shadows and into the little light provided by the glimmering of the stars above.   
  
Lucius Malfoy first separately eyed the three people in the greenhouse then took notice of the unsecured mouthpiece that had once been on Ron's mouth. He took giant strides over to it, bent down gracefully and came back up with the mouthpiece in his hands.   
  
Draco's stormy eyes followed his father's every move, but he dared not speak.   
  
Lucius now put his hands behind his back, the mouthpiece behind him now as well, and turned to the Draco-who-was-Ron. "Mr. Weasley, I presume?"   
  
Ron couldn't say anything and was only able to manage a feeble nod of his head.   
  
Lucius turned to Ginny now, still on the floor. "Ah yes, nice to see you again, Ms. Weasley. One would think that it was_ you_ who was not in her own body. Such fine curves and slopes, such a delicate frame, so delectable." Lucius looked up at the Ron-who-was-Draco then said, "Yes, very fine indeed. You're not a little girl anymore, are you?" Ginny shivered as Lucius ran his icy fingers over her right shoulder, then they migrated to her neck and made a swooping motion upwards as he stood up straight and looked at his son— the Draco-who-was-Ron.   
  
For a moment, he lost his cool, frozen over, composure and said, "Bah, this is just disgusting!" Purple sparks escaped Lucius' fingertips and with a hiss of his tongue and a flick of his left hand, both Ron and Draco looked up, surprised to apparently be back in their own bodies.   
  
"That's it?" Ron suddenly said. Though he was grateful to be back in his own body, he felt it strange that it all happened so quickly; plus, his fingernails had been manicured to some extent and that just felt weird. He glanced at Draco and he hadn't even changed the blank expression on his face. Ron knew Draco's ripped pant leg was probably driving him mad, but as if he cared.   
  
Lucius viciously turned his attention to Ron, surprised he would even speak in his presence without being addressed first. Ron realized this as well and immediately took to looking at his shoes.   
  
Lucius sniffed in some air through his nostrils, attached in a jutting manner to the bottom of his nose, and yet again turned his head to see his son, Draco.   
  
Draco had a blank, yet smug look on his face. Though his physical attributes had been Ron's just minutes ago, just looking at him now, one was able to realize a totally different aura about him. His gray eyes were sharp slits on his head now, glinting with glee, but perhaps speckled with a bit of fear and intimidation provided by the company of his own father. His mouth, usually a slanted line carefully sketched onto his face, was now as relaxed as a person's mouth might be whilst sleeping. Draco's hands, normally stuffed in his trouser pockets were now civilly knotted together behind his back. His legs were long poles that protruded from the ground and it seemed that Draco's expensive shoes were the roots holding him down to the greenhouse's dirt floor. Why so rigid? Malfoy's don't slouch; Rule 68 in the Malfoy family "Book" stated so, and every Malfoy knew the rules by heart. Any full-blooded Magic family had a book of rules at one time. Some chose to ignore its old ways, 'some' being families such as the Weasleys in this case, and some insisted that tradition was more important than anything and remained slaves to the family Books. Furthermore, even if a Malfoy did slouch, they didn't dare slouch in front of Lucius Malfoy.   
  
"I see you have brought home a prize for yourself as well?" Lucius asked his son, referring to Ginny as the prize.   
  
Realizing she was the prize and understanding to some extent what kind of 'prize' she was, Ginny's freckles quickly blended into her tomato-red face. Her eyes were wide open, but she ducked her head so no one could see her look of disgusted shock.   
  
Draco liked presents and prizes, but Ginny _Weasley_ was certainly not prize material. Or perhaps he didn't want her to be prize material? Whatever the reason, he suddenly coughed up an inaudible answer.   
  
"Speak up!" Lucius barked at his son.   
  
"She's not a prize, Father," Draco said, not sure what to expect at this remark. He looked up to see his Father's left eye twitching; a trait he'd inherited from him. Lucius looked like he was about to say something when the greenhouse door flung open once more to reveal an out-of-breath Tom Riddle, his composure uncharacteristically disheveled, and his eyes filled with anger.   
  
"Don't move," Riddle advised, addressing Draco's father. Tom now carefully went behind Lucius and grabbed the mouthpiece he had been holding.   
  
"Ha!" Riddle suddenly shouted. His hands were now on either side of his head, wide open, and the mouthpiece was now flying across the room and had made contact with Draco's head before he could do anything.   
  
"Riddle, what purpose does this serve?" Lucius demanded, trying to hide his rage even though he had a vague and unwanted idea of what might have been going on.   
  
"As you ordered, sir," Tom said as Lucius raised an eyebrow in question. "Restraining the blooded soul."   
  
"Him?" Lucius said, taken aback.   
  
"Aye," Riddle said, the mirth in his tone clearly apparent. "There was a small mistake, as you know, but I suppose not anymore since we have found the correct blooded soul."   
  
Disgusted, Lucius refused to look at his son now. The mouthpiece covered the majority of the bottom half of Draco's face and only his eyes were visible. His calm composure abandoned, he had a frantic look embedded into his eyes.   
  
Lucius sighed. "Do we have any vacancies?"   
  
"Cells?" Riddle asked. Seeing Lucius didn't oppose, he said, "Yes, I believe we do. Only two, though. Perhaps the blooded soul will get his own—"   
  
"No," Lucius interjected, a smile curling onto his evil face. "The girl and our blooded soul shall share. Do as you please with the other."   
  
Ron's stomach lurched when he heard Ginny would be going somewhere with Draco, but his internal organs performed a river dance when he discovered he was the other. What were they going to do with him?   
  
"Yes, sir," Riddle said, obviously pleased at gaining a new toy. Tom snapped his fingers and through the greenhouse doors came five, frail, black-hooded figures who looked like dementors— two carrying axes, one with a sword attached to his back, and the remaining two empty-handed.   
  
It looked as though only one was going to take Ron away, but he began to struggle. The empty-handed figure held Ron's right arm at the moment, ready to lead him out of the room. Forgetting where he was and who was there with him, he kicked the shin of the hooded figure that approached him, but he didn't budge at all. Surprised, Ron kicked and punched every way he could and though his struggles proved to be fruitless, he began fighting even harder when he saw another hooded figure approaching him.   
  
"Ron!" He could hear his sister crying out. "No! Ron!" He heard her scream.   
  
"Don't let them take me!" Ron yelled helplessly through gritted teeth.   
  
When the second hooded figure, this one also empty-handed, had reached him, it grabbed Ron's left arm. "Let me go!" Ron demanded. Though his struggling was growing weaker, he refused to be destroyed by these evil minions.   
  
Suddenly, the figure holding onto Ron's left arm raised his own right hand. The black cloak he wore fell away to reveal what was supposed to be a hand. It had six fingers, each housing five-inch-long nails. Seeing this, Ron gasped, which turned into a cough, and led to a coughing fit. The hooded figure's fingers began approaching Ron's head and though he tried with all his might to back away, these brittle creatures weren't going to let him go. When the hand was an inch above Ron's face, a green colored gas was expelled from the hooded figure's fingertips and Ron heard one last cry from his younger sister before his knees buckled, his body went limp, and everything once again turned black.   
  


* * *

  
  
Ginny reeled back into reality. She blinked her eyes once or twice and when she tried to move her arms, she discovered she was sitting on the floor, her arms shackled to two chains protruding from the ground. Her neck ached since she had been sitting up whilst unconscious. She surveyed the area around her and concluded she was in a prison cell, lit by an enchanted torch outside the bars to her right that held her in the room. The cell was twenty feet by twenty feet and on the opposite side of the prison cell, directly in front of her, she saw Draco Malfoy, knees curled into his chest with his head resting on his hands which were neatly laid on top of his knees.   
  
"Draco, what—" Ginny instinctively tried to get up, but her arms wouldn't allow her to move more than an inch or two from where she sat. The shackles pulled Ginny back onto her bum. "Can you move?" She decided to ask instead.   
  
To answer her, Draco stood straight up. Whilst she sat on the floor, his lanky body looked even taller to her. Except for the tear on his pant leg, he looked fine. "Were you actually going to turn us in back there?" Ginny suddenly exploded hysterically.   
  
"I never said anything to Father about turning you two in," Draco said coldly, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets.   
  
"Then what was all that fake bowing for?" Ginny asked.   
  
Draco stiffly eyed Ginny and looked away, obviously refusing to answer.   
  
Ginny let out an exasperated sigh and crossed her legs. "Well," she said after a long time. "Aren't you going to help me out of these things?" Ginny asked, raising her hands up.   
  
She hadn't expected him to move, but it looked as though Draco was coming to help her; however, he stopped in the middle of the room and leaned into the air. Strangely, he didn't fall over; there was an invisible force field like a wall between the two of them.   
  
"Oh," Ginny said softly.   
  
Seconds later, however, a cry of surprise and an uncharacteristic groan was heard from Draco. He had fallen through the barrier!   
  
"Draco?!" Ginny said alarmed.   
  
Heaving himself upright and failing to hide the look of astonishment from his pale face, he put his hands on his hips. "What?"   
  


* * *

  
  
It was Ron's turn to wake up now. He too was in a prison cell, but his didn't have bars. There were no windows in his cell and the room was as long and wide as he was. There was a door, but there was no knob; it could only be opened from the other side. Light was emitted from an unknown source in the room, and though the lighting was dim, it was enough to illuminate the stone walls surrounding him.   
  
Ron had been lying at the back of the cell. His right elbow ached and he assumed he must have been thrown into the cell and hit the wall with his elbow. He moved the joint around and concluded it was just bruised. Slowly, he sat up, every limb of his body hurting as he moved. As he stood up, gingerly testing his legs out, he felt something on his neck. It was a rope. As if he was to be led to the gallows, a noose lay uncomfortably around his neck. The rope was connected to the far right corner of the cell and he found out soon from a nasty tug that the rope wasn't even long enough to reach the door.   
  
Ron sat on his bum now. He'd landed like so after he'd tried to walk to the door, carelessly not paying attention to the length of the rope connected to the noose around his neck. He had his arms crossed over his chest and heaved a great sigh. What the hell was so great about him that Draco's father was after him? Ron threaded through the reasons why Mr. Malfoy might want or need him, but couldn't think of anything. It also bothered him that he felt like a dog at the moment. Finally, he sighed again and whispered to himself, "At least I'll probably end up missing the final exams."   
  
It must've been around nighttime because Ron yawned. Even though he'd just been unconscious, he was tired nonetheless. He blinked and when his eyes opened, Tom Riddle stared him straight in the face.   
  
"Hallo, Mr. Weasley," he said in his spooky voice. "Up, are we? Amazing, once again!"   
  
Ron yelped at the site of Tom Riddle, now dressed nicely and not sweaty as he had been when he'd last seen him in the greenhouse. Now Ron scowled and backed his face away from Riddle's; they were so close he could smell the dead stench off Tom's shirt!   
  
"Yes, well, if you're going to be difficult—" Tom had begun.   
  
"How about _not gay_?" Ron suddenly spat out.   
  
Riddle realized that him getting closer and closer to Ron whilst he backed away _did_ look awkward, but who was looking?   
  
"If you're going to be difficult," Tom began again, ignoring Ron's comment, "I'll get straight to the point. What did you see, boy?" Ron arched an eyebrow. "Spit it out before I make you!"   
  
"What did I see?" Ron asked skeptically. "I've been in this cell the whole time—!"   
  
"In your head!" Riddle burst out. "You've an Inner Eye, boy. Haven't you figured that much out yet?" Ignoring Ron's sudden intake of air, Tom asked his question very slowly, one last time. "What did you see?"   
  
Inner Eye? He remembered his old professor that used to teach Divination and how he'd taken the professor, her class, and the art, as a whole joke… but he was a Diviner? Ron inwardly shook his head 'no'. He hated Divination class! How in Godric's name could he be a Diviner? No one else in the Weasley clan was a Diviner— not as far as he knew, at least.   
  
Putting his thoughts aside, he decided he'd better tell Riddle something convincing since his neck was pretty much at his hands. Ron suddenly shivered a bit. The noose around his neck was moving; it was lifting!   
  
The rope was no longer connected to a corner of the room, but was now connected directly above him at the center of the room. They were actually going to hang him?! Ron's frantic eyes went to Riddle, as his fingers gripped the rope around his throat.   
  
"What's going on?" Ron asked helplessly.   
  
"You'd better tell me what I need to know. The sooner you tell me what I want, the sooner that rope stops moving." Riddle explained, grinning maliciously.   
  
Ron looked up at the ceiling once again. The rope was magically being sucked into the ceiling!   
  
"As long as you don't talk, the rope goes faster," Riddle said as he watched Ron get to his feet since the rope was so much shorter now. Only a meter and half more to the top of the cell.   
  
"What do you want to know?" Ron demanded.   
  
Ron's feet had lifted off the floor now and he used his hands to hold onto a portion of the rope above the loop around his neck. If he let go of that rope, he'd be dead and hung.   
  
"What you saw, dammit!" Riddle screamed, as a whip-like object appeared in his hands. With this, he whacked Ron's right hand. Ron yelped. There would be a bruise mark from that, but Ron endured the pain and immediately, his hand recoiled back to the rope he was holding. Technically, he was holding onto his whole body with just his hands!   
  
"Well, there was Harry, and Hermione—"   
  
"What were they doing?"   
  
Ron hadn't heard Tom; he was saying anything and everything he could to stop the rope from being sucked into the ceiling. He realized that even though he was holding onto the rope, after a certain point, the part he was holding onto would get sucked into the ceiling, and when the loop tried to get into the ceiling, he would die— he'd be hung!   
  
Ron closed his eyes and concentrated. "There was blood, a lot of blood. Uh… Malfoy, Draco, I saw him. I saw Ginny too. Th-th-they were together. I saw a vampire, a basilisk, and a centaur— no, two centaurs." Ron coughed a bit. Only a meter more of the rope was left. "There were some dead people, too, I think. Three coffins. One was large, for a full-grown man, the other was a little smaller, maybe for his child or someone younger and another longer coffin."   
  
"Tell me more!" Riddle urged. These were random thoughts to Ron, but they obviously made some sense to Riddle.   
  
Ron's fingers slipped off the rope once and he squealed in terror, but held onto his life with his now sweaty and blistered fingers. "Dumbledore and Snape, I saw them, too."   
  
"Any ideas or words you remember, boy?"   
  
"Uh… um…" Ron stuttered a bit and then he remembered. "Something about a plan and some sort of business."   
  
Out of curiosity, Riddle asked, "Do those terms mean anything to you from what you saw?"   
  
"The plan—"   
  
The door to the cell suddenly burst open! A half-meter of the rope was left, but Ron opened his eyes to see who it was and immediately, his face broke into a big grin.   
  
"Harry! Hermione!" He greeted his two best friends.   
  
"Ron!" Hermione cried, terror-stricken.   
  
Ron had stopped talking about his visions, so the rope was sucked into the ceiling much faster. He only had four more inches left!   
  
_Crap!_ Ron thought. With clear effort, he ignored his friends' presence in the cell and began mumbling things about his visions, whether he'd already said them or not. Ron cried aloud as the rope went through the ceiling so much that he only held on with his right hand now. With all his effort, Ron swung his legs up so that his feet were on the ceiling and used his feet to push the ceiling, hoping to 'unsuck' the rope from the ceiling. No such luck.   
  
Three inches left.   
  
All of a sudden, Ron heard Harry gasp and Hermione squeal slightly. Then he heard Riddle: "Avada—"   
  
Ron's eyes widened and unknowingly, he stopped muttering to see what had happened. When he did see, he almost laughed out loud, but the noose wrapped around his neck prevented him from doing so. Hermione had punched Tom Riddle's face and now had him in a chokehold! At that moment, Harry whipped out his wand and bellowed the first spell that came to his mind, "Tarantallegra!"   
  
"What?" Hermione snorted.   
  
Riddle, however, had vanished from the room with a pop. The dancing spell hadn't even affected him! Hermione would have pondered over this, but Ron's strangled cry prevented her from doing so. Both she and Harry took their wands and yelled, "Finite Incantatem," simultaneously and the rope around Ron's neck disappeared. Hermione was smart enough to move out of the way, but Ron fell from the ceiling and landed on Harry.   
  
Everyone was breathing hard now, and Ron had rolled off of Harry. He was coughing and wheezing now and even though he was breathing very fast, his breathing was slowly getting back to normal. Now Ron took large breaths in through his nose and exhaled slowly through his mouth, still occasionally coughing. With his breathing under control, he got off his hands and knees and sat with his back to a wall, thoroughly exhausted, and finally looked at his friends, who looked at him, concern apparent on their faces.   
  
"Well," he said, breaking the silence, "that was fun!"   
  
"Ron!" Hermione moaned.   
  
"You pillock," Harry said to his best friend.   
  
"Nice right hook, Hermione," Ron said. "And Harry, was that blasted spell from our second year the only spell you could think of—?"   
  
"Ron, stop acting like nothing's wrong!" Hermione said, but Ron couldn't help but go into a fit of giggles. "Stop or I'll right hook your face!" Ron stopped giggling at that, but the goofy smile plastered onto his face meant he was still laughing on the inside. Hermione sighed and turned to Harry.   
  
Harry had a look of concern on his face now and his head was tilted at an angled towards the ground. His right hand was in a loose fist near his mouth as he bit on his right thumbnail whilst thinking about whatever it was he was thinking about. He suddenly looked up.   
  
"So you're a Diviner?" The abruptness of his question took Ron and Hermione by surprise, but it was true, and Ron answered by raising both his eyebrows. Then Harry stopped biting his thumbnail, got up, and ran his fingers through his long hair. "I knew it."   
  
**Author's Note:** Finally! I was able to add some action into this chapter! And yes, many fics make Ron a Diviner, and it works out nicely in the fic I'm weaving here, so I did it, too. ^_^ And did Hermione's Karate-chop action surprise anyone? Well, ever since her Malfoy-slap in the third installment of the series, I've imagined her as a kickass bookworm, so there's the explanation for that. :)   
  
**Chapter Seven:** A nice mix of things coming up. H/Hr or R/Hr? You decide! ;) The professors finally realize some of their students are missing, we see more of the mysterious Blaise Zabini and find out more about _the plan_.   
  
Thanks to **Erika**, **Jonah**, **Bubble**, and **Chiaki Malfoy** for reviewing the last chapter! 


	7. And the Plot Thickens to a Lumpy, Custar...

**Chapter 7: And the Plot Thickens to a Lumpy, Custard-like Mixture…**   
  
"You knew it?" Ron asked flabbergasted. "You knew I was a Diviner all this time and didn't tell me?"   
  
"Well, I didn't know _all_ this time—"   
  
"What, you're a Diviner, too?" Ron asked, shooting daggers at Harry with his glare.   
  
There was an uncomfortable silence and Ron huffed, crossed his arms and turned his back to Harry. Hermione shifted at Ron's sudden bitterness, but she too was surprised when Harry answered Ron's question with, "Kind of…"   
  
"What?" Both Ron and Hermione chimed in together.   
  
Seeing Hermione's surprised shock and feeling Ron's acidic woe, Harry decided he should explain just a bit. "I talked to Dumbledore about it a few days ago," Harry began, his tone sturdy as ever.   
  
Hermione raised her head and looked into Harry's bright green eyes, now a bit darker than usual, and was surprised to see that his eyes were staring into hers as well. Throughout the past month, Harry had changed— gotten paler, lost his appetite, and other strange things, but no matter what, he still had the same piercing gaze.   
  
Harry saw Hermione look at him. "I went the day before you went to see him," Harry told her.   
  
"That was—" Ron stuttered a bit, finally uncrossing his arms and looking at Harry, "that was the day Riddle took me." He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets.   
  
"How do you know it was the day Riddle attacked?" Harry asked.   
  
Ron's eyes were uncharacteristic slits on his head now. "Because it was the day before Hermione went in to talk to Dumbledore. Unlike you, she tells me— her _friend_, about things she has to do!" Ron was fuming. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, but other than that he kept himself together pretty well.   
  
Harry rolled his eyes. He just couldn't tell them why he'd gone in to see Dumbledore… could he?   
  
"Harry?" Hermione's heavenly voice called, fishing him out of his thoughts. "Harry, if there's anything you'd like to tell us, or anything that's been bothering you, you can tell us," she said, eyeing Ron and making it obvious that 'we' referred to both herself and Ron. "We're best friends Harry, and when you had problems before, you never held anything back."   
  
Hermione's words were usually the icebreaker during tense situations among the trio. Ron sighed and unclenched his fists. "We've always been there for you, Harry, and you've always been there for us." Ron unintentionally laced the fingers of his left hand with the fingers of Hermione's right hand. Hermione began blushing furiously but pretended not to notice— but Harry had noticed.   
  
A pregnant pause followed Hermione and Ron's heartfelt words and Harry finally moved towards the exit of the cell. He tried not to sound cold, but his efforts were fruitless. "Hermione, why don't you take care of Ron's wounds with some medi-magic? We need to find Ginny and Malfoy; I'll wait outside."   
  


* * *

  
  
"Out of the way, you oaf!" Snape growled, shoving his way past an enormous Hagrid.   
  
"Oi! I need to see Headmaster Dumbledore, too, y'know!" Hagrid yelled back, shaking his fist and everything around him as he ran after Professor Snape.   
  
Snape usually glided wherever he went, but now his long black cloak swirled and swished around his legs as he hurried down the hallway and then up the stairs to Dumbledore's office. Normally, anyone entering the Headmaster's office knocked at the door to display good manners, but Snape, quite uncharacteristically, barged in!   
  
"Headmaster, I've got dire news to inform you of—"   
  
Hagrid had finally made it up the stairs, having taken them four at a time, and helped himself into the office as well. Huffing and puffing, Hagrid faced Dumbledore. "Professor Dumbledore, 'Arry an' Ron 'an 'ermione… they're all gone!"   
  
Snape gasped a bit, but hid his surprise and turned from Hagrid to Dumbledore. "Yes, well, I came to tell you that Draco Malfoy is not in the castle and has not been here for three days or more."   
  
Dumbledore waited to see if either Snape or Hagrid had anything more to say to him, but both of his visitors felt what they'd said was enough. Before Snape and Hagrid bore holes into one another's heads with their eyes, the Headmaster sighed, itched a spot above his left eyebrow, then a spot behind his left ear, and sat down at his desk. "Yes, Severus," he looked at Snape, "Rubeus," he looked at Hagrid, "This _is_ dire news indeed." With that, Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth, and smiled.   
  


* * *

  
  
Blaise Zabini lay on her stomach on her bed, gazing into the fireplace in her dorm room. She had curled her hair today, so she played with a curly strand of hair, twirling it about the fingers on her right hand.   
  
Suddenly, the fire spoke to her, but Blaise wasn't surprised. "Forgive me for making you wait, dearest," a dark, silky voice said.   
  
Blaise giggled a flirtatious giggle. "Oh Lucius, I'll _always_ wait for you!" She blew a kiss at the fiery image of Lucius Malfoy.   
  
Lucius interrupted her giggles. "About the plan—"   
  
Blaise immediately stopped giggling and now she pouted. She lowered her head and looked at the fire through her eyelashes. "Oh Lucius, I've not been able to initiate it yet! Draco's not been anywhere. Honestly, I'm surprised he's the son of such a brilliant man like you. The boy's got no manners at all!" She squealed in her high-pitched voice.   
  
The tips of Mr. Malfoy's mouth twitched and a tiny grin snaked across his face. "Don't you worry, dearest. Draco is here. But there's been a tiny alteration to the plans—"   
  
"Oh Lucius, the Dark Lord is still coming back, right?"   
  
Lucius immediately switched attitudes with Blaise. "You imbecile! Do _not_ speak of the plan! Where you are, anyone can find out about it!"   
  
Then couldn't anyone find out about her talking to Lucius Malfoy in her fireplace? Blaise scowled inwardly. Pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind, she looked up at Lucius. "I'm so sorry, dear Lucius," she said in a soft voice.   
  
Draco's father muttered something that sounded like, "Stupid girl," bid his farewell, and left, the fire in the fireplace dying down with his departure.   
  
As soon as Lucius had left, Blaise's schoolgirl smile had left her face and she cocked an eyebrow. "Bastard," she said in a low voice as she slid off her bed and walked out of her dorm room.   
  


* * *

  
  
Draco straightened up and still wasn't able to fathom why he had fallen through the magical barrier. It was impossible that his father's security system was faulty… so what had it been?   
  
"Draco?" Ginny's voice rang clearly through the air.   
  
Draco's silvery head jerked a bit as he looked up, the hairs on his head moving very slightly. _Oh yeah. Her_, he thought to himself.   
  
He walked over to Ginny's left side, knelt down on his right knee and reached into his pocket for a hairpin. Seeing the questioning look on Ginny's face, he clarified, "It's Blaise's."   
  
Normally, Ginny would've liked very much to poke some fun at Draco for having a girl's hair accessory conveniently in his pocket, but he looked quite bothered at the moment. The usual sneer playing around the edges of his mouth was missing at the moment… but why wouldn't it be? Ginny recalled the events in the greenhouse several times now and it was quite clear that for some unknown reason, Draco's father had turned on him. The more she thought of the situation from different points of view, the more reasons she found to have pity on Draco. For one, what kind of father would throw his own son into a prison cell?   
  
Ginny remembered that she had been knocked out before coming to the cell as well. She presumed this was most likely done so those prisoners who were able to escape wouldn't be able to find their way around.   
  
It was different for Draco, however. He'd probably been to these dungeons many times before, so he didn't have to be knocked out. But why would Lucius throw his own son into a cell?   
  
The same question kept circling Ginny's head and she only tumbled back into reality when she noticed Draco turning her hand around as best as he could to see if the metal shackles had any keyholes. However, none were found. Frustrated, Draco tossed the hairpin he was trying to use behind him.   
  
Ginny tried to readjust her sitting position, as she was becoming quite uncomfortable at the moment. As she moved, her flaming red hair kept getting into her face and she moved her head around in different ways to get it out of the way.   
  
Meanwhile, Draco looked behind him and found the hairpin he had tossed aside. Ginny looked up and saw Draco lift his left pant leg up to his knee (_A little thin, but nice calf muscles_, Ginny thought); his wand was attached to his leg!   
  
"Draco, you have your wand?" Ginny said, her voice sounding as if Christmas had come early.   
  
"Actually, I own four wands, but this one came with the pants."   
  
"Oh," was all Ginny could say. Then she suddenly asked out of curiosity, "Where exactly do you get your pants?"   
  
"From my closet," Draco said gruffly.   
  
Ginny would've responded to that, but she was now busy observing Draco. With his snakelike fingers, he had bent the hairpin into a circular shape. Now he twirled the wand in his left hand, perhaps as he thought of a spell. Only moments later, Draco threw the wand two inches into the air, caught it, and tapped two spots on the circular hairpin. The hairpin lifted in the air and was level with Ginny and Draco's noses. Draco put his hand, palm up, under the hairpin, ready to catch it when it dropped. Red and Green sparks circled the hairpin and soon, it began to look like rubber, then it became a bit sturdier and seconds later, it was a rubber band!   
  
Now Draco stood up on his knees. "Move your head that way," he instructed Ginny. She wasn't facing Draco anymore, but the fact that his hands were free (whereas hers weren't) and he was behind her didn't seem to bother her as much as she thought it would.   
  
Next, Ginny felt Draco's strangely gentle fingers go through her hair. Draco gathered her hair together and tied back Ginny's hair with the rubber band he had made.   
  
When she felt his fingers leave her hair, Ginny slowly turned around to face Draco. This was the first kind gesture she had seen him do. True, all he'd done was tie her hair back, but it was thoughtful, and that's what counted. The ponytail was in the middle of the back of her head; it wasn't so low that it rode on her neck, but it also wasn't too high.   
  
"Thanks," Ginny stuttered, her cheeks flourishing to a red color as soon as the word had left her mouth.   
  
Draco simply nodded his head in response and now sat about a foot away from Ginny, his back against the hard cell wall.   
  
Breaking the silence, Ginny asked, "Draco, you've got your wand! Why can't you just undo these chains and magic the door open?"   
  
Draco's mouth began to twitch. He was smiling, and he would have laughed if his head didn't hurt so much. "Are you stupid?" He asked her in a spooky voice.   
  
"Stupid?!" Ginny shouted, bewildered. "_You're_ the one that's stupid! You've got your wand right there!"   
  
"Alright, let me rephrase the question. Do you think my father is stupid? Do you think Malfoy's are stupid?"   
  
She didn't need to think that through, but still her answer sounded as though she was a bit unsure. "No," she said.   
  
"Well, you're not as dumb as you look," Malfoy spat back.   
  
Ginny, taken aback by his sudden bitterness asked, "Why can't you just try a spell or two? What? Have you been locked in here before as well to know first hand that spells don't work here?" As soon as she'd said that, however, the solemn look on Draco's face made her regret it.   
  
_His father has locked him up in here before?_ Ginny thought to herself.   
  
"Sorry," Ginny immediately muttered.   
  
Draco had been in these prison cells before. He suddenly turned his head and looked at Ginny. "I remember that about three years before I came to Hogwarts," Draco began telling Ginny. "Father was teaching me the _correct_ way of handling a hippogriff." Draco gave a masculine snort at this, having overemphasized the term 'correct' a bit too much. "As you might've figured, Father expected nothing less than perfection, so I used to read books about everything all the time. So, when my father asked me to approach the hippogriff, I did as the books I'd read had instructed me to. I locked eyes with the hippogriff and bowed, but before I could do anything else, Father had grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and had tossed my body to the opposite wall of the room." Ginny winced at this and Draco noticed and smirked. "Yes, it hurt like the Dementor's Kiss. Well, I missed dinner that night and spent the night in a cell in my father's dungeons— locked up with the hippogriff as well.   
  
"Even if I had become friendly with the hippogriff earlier on, it wouldn't have helped. This wasn't a regular hippogriff— it was brought up in Malfoy Manor, and nothing in this manor is ordinary. This was my first time to be punished by being thrown into a cell, and since the hippogriff was there too, I decided everything would be fine if I just ignored it. That was wrong however, because the hippogriff hadn't been fed either. So, when I'd tried to unlock the door, the magic was absorbed into the door, making it harder to open the door. No magic worked in that cell and later I found out that the cells in Father's dungeons were enchanted to prohibit the use of magic by any of its prisoners.   
  
"That night I sprained my left wrist and was forced to use it the next day to write and carry out chores even though it wasn't fully healed. I bruised my elbows and knees from running around the cell so much and falling on the ground when dodging the hippogriff's attacks. I finally gained the opportunity to sleep, though." Draco now looked into Ginny's eyes and though his face physically wore a genuine Malfoy smirk, his eyes looked very sad at the moment. "Anything gained is at someone's loss. In order to get sleep, I used a pair of shackles attached to the wall to strangle the hippogriff to death." Draco paused at Ginny's sudden gasp, but continued nonetheless. "It was my first kill. Even then, however, I couldn't go to sleep with the body of the dead and bloody hippogriff on the other side of the cell. I had kept telling myself how it could be my neck that was snapped in half, but it didn't help."   
  
Though Draco had been facing Ginny the whole time, he hadn't actually been looking at her. Now that his clear gray eyes rested on her horrified face, he cursed himself internally for telling her such a story. Why in Merlin's name was he telling Ginny Weasley about a sissy flashback he'd just had? Draco frowned to himself and finally said, "All in all, these cells were impenetrable and though I found this out at a young age, it's true and still remains true. Wizard security isn't like Muggle security; it never grows old or expires."   
  
Draco looked up, hoping Ginny didn't look so shaken now.   
  
After devouring such a story, Ginny tried hard to hide her facial expressions, but the fact that a child could be treated so horribly had struck a chord in her heart. _Draco Malfoy was a human after all_, she thought to herself.   
  
"Well, could you still try to use a spell?" Ginny said in a quiet voice.   
  
Draco's left eye twitched. Hadn't she heard anything he had so foolishly decided to tell her? He sighed angrily. "Using my wand and pointing it at the door," Draco pointed his wand at the door as he spoke, "and saying _Alohomora_ isn't going to do anything!"   
  
Whilst uttering the unlocking spell, Draco had swished his wand in the correct movement, and seconds later, the stone door before him creaked open. Draco jumped back in surprise. His father's cells were topnotch and simple first year spells weren't supposed to work on them!   
  
He remembered when he was about seven years old and had watched some men install new cells into a new dungeon his father had had built. Nothing in Malfoy Manor was supposed to be faulty! Draco stared at the door leading out of the cell.   
  
"Um, could you unlock these now?" Ginny asked sheepishly, the shackles around her wrists jingling as she lifted her hands up.   
  
Draco reeled back into reality, but that was when he heard the voices again.   
  
_Blood…_   
  
**Author's Note**: This chapter was somewhat confusing since a little bit of everything was thrown in here; however, the plot is finally starting to take shape and the next chapter, we'll have some _real_ action (how many times have I said that now?). And for you H/Hr and R/Hr shippers there, _anything_ can happen! >D Sorry I couldn't make it H/Hr or R/Hr definite this chapter! *sweatdrop*   
  
**Chapter Eight**: Sorry! H/Hr and R/Hr mystery still isn't definite yet in this next chapter, but there are big hints at both of them happening! Draco and Ginny are still in their little dungeon where Draco has an interesting little flashback and something mysterious is happening with the Hogwarts professors!   
  
Thanks to **Eiko**, **Erika**, **Adie**, **anonymous**, and **Bubble** for commenting! Much love!   



	8. The Blooded Soul

**Chapter 8: The Blooded Soul**   
  
"There, that's all the places I can see you're injured," Hermione told Ron, scanning him one more time to see if anymore scrapes or bruises were still on him.   
  
Ron pulled down the sleeve of his right arm and said, "Right here." He moved his head towards his right shoulder and used his left hand to stretch the collar of his shirt to reveal a nasty bruise.   
  
Hermione placed her glowing wand on the injury and they both watched it disappear in a matter of seconds. "Anymore?" Hermione asked.   
  
It was obvious she was trying to hurry because she was worrying herself over Harry's awkward behavior. Ron's left wrist had a bruise on it, but he forgot about it for her. "No, that's all, thanks," Ron said, giving her an appreciative smile.   
  
"Good, let's go," Hermione said, leading the way out of the cell. Ron sighed and followed her out.   
  
Hermione wanted to say something comforting to Harry because she realized something had bothered him (because the whole holding hands thing couldn't have… Harry wasn't that… shallow, was he?) but Harry had obviously chose to ignore it all. As soon as Ron and Hermione were in earshot, Harry said, "Be on your guard. Riddle knows we're here," he said, referring to himself and Hermione, "so that probably means the rest of this bloody manor knows, too."   
  
Hermione winced a bit. Ron always used the term 'bloody,' and though it wasn't the nicest word to use, everyone was used to Ron saying it since he always used it, but it wasn't like Harry to use such words. She frowned inwardly and told herself not to worry about such trivial matters when two more people needed rescuing.   
  
When Hermione began listening again, there was nothing to listen to. Harry had finished saying what he'd needed to say, Ron followed him quietly, and she figured she ought to do the same. But with a trio so similar, yet equally diverse, silence never lasted for long.   
  
"Harry," Ron piped up, his voice echoing throughout the dark serenity about them. "I was just wondering how you knew I was a Diviner and all," he trailed off just a bit.   
  
Ron and Hermione had been following Harry, and when he stopped suddenly, they both nearly tumbled into his back. Harry crossed his arms over his chest and turned a ninety-degree angle and leaned on a wall. He looked so different yet again. In the sullen darkness, he looked even paler… almost as pale as Draco Malfoy! His messy hair lay on his head in a depressing manner, salty glands of sweat having dampened it. His glasses had slid down his nose just a bit, but he made no attempts at pushing the spectacles back up. Harry's eyes were closed now, and he was so still that it looked as though he had leaned against the wall to take a nap, but suddenly, his eyes snapped open and two bright, emerald green circles appeared on his face.   
  
Harry had made himself forget about the strange 'moment' Ron and Hermione had shared in the cell. He'd suspected since his second year at Hogwarts that Ron may have had a 'thing' for Hermione, and this was confirmed during their fourth year at Hogwarts, but didn't anyone care whether or not he had a 'thing' for anyone? Harry gave his head a gentle shake; he was confusing himself with so many 'things' now. But moving along, even now, he wondered if he really wanted to and/or need to tell his friends what he was preparing to tell them. They'd pretty much been asking him to tell them about his problems, and he'd done so before when he'd had other problems, but still…   
  
"Do you really think it's fine to just stop in the middle of Malfoy Manor and start story time with Uncle Harry?" He suddenly asked.   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. Same stubborn Harry. "Well, if you don't feel secure telling us at Hogwarts where danger couldn't get at us even if we were painted magenta and hung by our toes in the Great Hall, then this ought to be the next best place to tell us!"   
  
The left side of Ron's mouth began curling into a tiny smirk, but he looked over at Hermione and saw that she was thoroughly outraged at the moment, so he controlled his laughter. Ron looked over at Harry; he knew Harry would've laughed at the uncharacteristic remark Hermione had said had it been said at any other time, but this wasn't any other time, it was now.   
  
Harry had been staring at Hermione, and after an uncomfortable pregnant pause he sighed. "You two remember how I told you I went to see Dumbledore? Well, I went to see him because I wasn't getting much sleep."   
  
Hermione bit her bottom lip and nodded; she'd known about his sleep deprivation for a while now.   
  
"From the beginning of this year, I haven't had much sleep. I'm not so sure about my marks in class anymore either," he said, turning to Hermione, "but after a few days of no sleep, just being able to keep my eyes open in class was an accomplishment to gloat about for me."   
  
"Harry, you never told me— us— you never told us any of this," Ron said in his best comforting voice, trying to hide his shock.   
  
"Yeah, well," Harry stuttered.   
  
"I noticed," Hermione said softly. It hurt her that Harry had been so troubled for so long and even though she'd noticed, she hadn't tried to do anything about it. "You've changed Harry. You've lost your appetite, you've gotten pale, you don't talk much, and you ignore people you used to talk to."   
  
"I know!" Harry barked. He gritted his teeth and looked at his shoes, ashamed for snapping at his friends. "I know," he said again, softer this time, "but I've been having visions lately."   
  
Harry closed his eyes tightly. There, he said it, they knew now. How would they take it?   
  
"Visions?" Ron inquired.   
  
They didn't get it yet? He opened his eyes. "Like you," Harry told Ron. "You're a Diviner, aren't you?"   
  
Ron nodded. "If what Riddle told me is true, I guess I am."   
  
A sudden epiphany hit Hermione and she gasped a bit. "Diviners!"   
  
"Duh!" Ron said.   
  
Hermione glared at Ron and he stifled himself so Hermione could finish. "According to information from _Denying Diviners_ and _Dire Divinations_ (both by Icy U. Duke), even if a person's got an Inner Eye, that trait is not revealed until the individual is at least sixteen years old. Zaara Biznalia didn't get her powers until she was eighty-seven years old! Anyway, a Diviner's Inner Eye usually shows itself in time; it happens at different times for different people, kind of like puberty. The only way one's Divination powers can be revealed unnaturally is when the holder of the trait receives a concussion on the full moon of the twelfth hour of the twelve day of that particular month, which just passed— the day Ron was attacked."   
  
Harry looked on intently, but Ron managed to mutter amazed, "That old hag was _eighty-seven_ years old? Wild…"   
  
"Ron! Pay attention!" Hermione roared. Ron shut his mouth and looked at Hermione. "As I was saying, when the Diviner finally realizes he or she holds this original— totally useless in my opinion— power, visions start flooding the individuals mind. You two need to learn how to control what you see. Even though Divination is kind of like a guessing game, true Diviner's have an actual Inner Eye. I assure you Professor Trelawney did not have a true Inner Eye," Hermione rolled her eyes at this. "Ron, have you been seeing visions like Harry?"   
  
"Yeah," Ron answered.   
  
"Yes, so both you and Harry have real Inner Eyes! You don't have to sit down in front of a prop crystal ball to 'see' visions; they come to you naturally. Yet that can be rather inconvenient if you can't control your visions, like they can keep up you all night like Harry, but this is amazing! I could research with you two for hours!"   
  
"Hermione," Harry pulled her out of her thoughts.   
  
"Oh, yes, I'll do that _after_ we get back to Hogwarts, but if you two need to know anymore about Diviners, past or present, or anything about Diviners in general, just ask." Hermione smiled contently, once again proud of her vast amount of knowledge.   
  
"So, how exactly did we get our _powers_?" Ron wasn't showing much enthusiasm, but he was actually quite interested since this was the first time someone was taking the time to explain everything to him.   
  
"Well, it's usually passed down through a family. It's not a common trait like red hair or something. The Inner Eye can stay a recessive trait for hundreds of years, even generations. Relatives you never knew you had might have had the trait and it suddenly appears in you! That's probably what happened with you though," Hermione told Ron. "As for Harry," she trailed off.   
  
"Yeah, I'm different." Harry grimaced. Hermione looked as though she knew what might be coming, but Ron looked on with interest now. "When I went to see Dumbledore, I asked him about my visions. A lot of them were rather disturbing and some of them were about him as well. They started off with small things. For instance, I'd see that Neville would trip and then five minutes later, he really would trip. Then later I'd see the outcome of Quidditch matches and such, but after a while, they kept coming and wouldn't ever go away; most of them have been bad and that's why I went to Dumbledore… I don't want the visions. Anyway, Dumbledore told me that for the past fifty years— that's how much of the Potter family history is recorded for now, no one in my family has been a Diviner. It's a truly rare trait." Harry paused, and Hermione was biting her lip; now she knew what was coming. "Like my ability to speak Parseltongue, I'm a Diviner because it passed onto me through Vol— I mean, through You-Know-Who."   
  
Harry sighed quietly. He was glad to have told his friends about his troubles. He knew Hermione already had known for a while what was going on, but how would Ron react? Harry looked up to see Ron had his head tilted to the right; he was digesting all this new information.   
  
"Oh, is that all?" Ron said. "Okay, I guess we ought to find Ginny and Ferret-boy now."   
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows. She'd been expecting some sort of outburst— happy, surprise, shock, anything! —but this was so strange! Hadn't he heard anything?   
  
"Don't move," Harry suddenly ordered in a low voice.   
  
"Harry what's—" Ron began, but before he could finish, Harry jumped with his wand in his hand and aimed above Ron's left shoulder.   
  
"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry shouted.   
  
A muffled cry was heard. "Dammit! Missed!" Harry swore.   
  
"Don't shoot!" A gruff voice called out from the shadows.   
  
"Sirius?" Hermione asked.   
  
"Stay back!" Harry hollered. Now Harry stood in front of his friends. Hermione and Ron weren't sure if he was ordering them or the unexpected visitor.   
  
"Don't make so much noise—" the man began.   
  
"Name yourself and state your purpose!" Harry ordered.   
  
"Uh… I just wanted to help you lot with directions… forgive my soar throat though, seems as though a frog's set himself into my neck!"   
  
The man began stepping out of the shadows and bowed elegantly. "The name's Evra Von, resident vampire. It's a pleasure to meet you all."   
  
"Von what?" Ron asked. "Von Kladmir? Von—" Ron choked on his words. "Merlin's beard! Did you say that frog was just in your throat?" Ron stared goggle-eyed at Evra as Hermione stepped on Ron's foot, trying to stop him from being any ruder.   
  


* * *

  
  
Blaise stormed through the corridors, her curly locks of hair bouncing excitedly and tickling the smooth skin on her face all the while. The high-heeled boots she wore created an echoing staccato-like sound as each shoe hit the marble floor over and over— not exactly annoying, but not all too pleasing either.   
  
_That Lucius!_ Blaise thought to herself, overcome by rage just thinking about Mr. Malfoy. _The time will come when he is at my mercy, and when that time comes; I won't have any mercy to give him!_   
  
Blaise stopped walking, uttered a password of some sort, and the phoenix statue before her began spinning and it soon revealed a set of stairs. She climbed the spiral staircase, straightened out her clothes just as Hermione once did when she'd been in front of this door, and then she knocked twice on the door.   
  
"Come in," Dumbledore's raspy voice called out.   
  
When Blaise came in, she thought only she and Professor Dumbledore were the only people in the grand office, but then she took a closer look at a jar the Headmaster was holding. Rubeus Hagrid and her house leader, Severus Snape were miniature humans held inside that very jar!   
  
"Headmaster, do you really think that's—!" Blaise began.   
  
"It's quite alright," Dumbledore told her. The miniature Hagrid was ramming into the walls of the jar and Snape was trying to fix his snapped wand. Dumbledore sighed and pointed his wand inside the jar. "Petrificus totalus," he said lazily, and with that, the jar looked like it held dolls instead of living, breathing wizards.   
  
Relieved, Blaise helped herself to a seat as Dumbledore conjured them both some tea. Blaise's regular girlish voice was gone now and she used a somewhat seducing, low voice to speak with Dumbledore now. "_The plan_ has been altered a bit, sir. Draco is now the blooded soul and he's at Malfoy Manor as well as Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Ginny Weasley."   
  
Dumbledore's eyes brightened then for a fleeting instant and something like a mad glint of glee passed through his eyes, and then they turned back to normal as he continued to listen to what Blaise had to say.   
  


* * *

  
  
"Oh, you noticed my original little physical attribute?" Evra inquired.   
  
"It's hard to miss!" Ron blurted out, not minding his manners.   
  
"Yes, well, I'm a Snakeman, _not_ a Frogman. Do you see any warts on this beautiful face?" Evra brought his face right next to Ron's and they stood, face-to-slimy-looking-face before Ron finally shook his head 'no' to get him away. "Thought so," Evra said pleased.   
  
"Evra Von, is it?" Hermione asked. Evra nodded to confirm. "You said you were a vampire—"   
  
Ron's face contorted. "You wouldn't be here to suck our blood, would you?"   
  
"Oh, no, don't worry about that! I already had my fill today!" He said with a big grin. Ron's eyes were plates on his head now.   
  
"Well, isn't a snake's blood poisonous to a vampire?" Hermione inquired.   
  
"Why yes it is! You're a smart one, aren't you?" He was about to use his slimy hand to pat Hermione's head, but she quickly ducked out of the way and after Evra realized she valued her hair, he mentally forgave her and continued. "I used to be an ordinary snakeboy, ("Since when were snakepeople ordinary?" Ron had muttered in a nauseous voice.) but about three-hundred years ago, a Darren Crepsley was a vampire at large. Normal vampires will take what blood they need and then leave the human source alone— not killing him or her. However, when Crepsley drank from his victims, he would drain all the blood from his victims. That's not permitted in the vampire community, or any community at all for that matter. Anyway, I was homeless when I was young and one day that vampire confronted me. I didn't really know snakes were lethal to vampires, so at that moment I thought my life was over. On the contrary, however, I'd been turned into a vampire when Crepsley bit me whilst he died. The authorities found his body the next day, but they didn't know how he died. So there you have it— free history lesson."   
  
"So you were alive _three-hundred years_ ago?" Hermione asked a bit bewildered.   
  
"Oh, you didn't know? Vampires have a slower internal clock than humans do. Did you know Kurda Gavner had two hundred and sixty wives throughout his whole life? Can you say pimp?" Evra chuckled to himself.   
  
Ron's stomach lurched at hearing that and he had to lean against the wall to get a hold of himself.   
  
"What? Aren't either of you vampires?" Evra asked flabbergasted.   
  
"No!" Harry exploded. He finally spoke, but his face wore a defensive look and he still wasn't too happy about Evra's arrival even though he didn't pose as much of a threat at the moment.   
  
"That's odd," Evra began stroking his chin. "The reason I headed this way was because I felt the aura of a vampire in distress!" He began scratching his nose now. "Oh well, I guess I'll be on my way now… must go help whoever it is—"   
  
"You're leaving?" Harry asked astounded.   
  
"From the looks of you, should you say, 'Yippee! You're leaving!'?"   
  
Harry mouthed wordlessly. "You said you were going to help us with directions—"   
  
"Well, what did you expect me to say when I was confronted by three wizards with their wands?" Harry hated the way Evra was always sarcastic.   
  
"Two wizards and _one_ witch," Hermione said, a bit irritated.   
  
Evra sighed, ignoring Hermione's side comment. "You lot can come with me, but I still need to help whoever it is in the dungeons. Another vampire needs help and it's my duty to provide him help—"   
  
"You're in Malfoy Manor and you want to _help_ someone?" Ron had finally found his tongue again.   
  
"No," Evra said, "I never said I wanted to." He smirked and began walking past the three of them when Hermione gasped aloud.   
  
"OH MY— FOR GODRIC'S SAKE!" Hermione's eyes were wide open and her right hand was on her forehead and she was starting to look dizzy. Ron began rushing over to her side to help her stand, but Harry had beaten him to it. Ron paused, but decided to go to Hermione's side as well.   
  
"Hermione, what is it?" Harry asked urgently.   
  
"I can't believe I didn't realize it before," Hermione stuttered.   
  
"Realize what?" Ron asked.   
  
Hermione took a couple of quick breaths before she looked up at Harry and Ron in front of her and Evra's turned head. "Draco Malfoy is a vampire— the blooded soul."   
  
There was a dreary silence after that, but Ron suddenly added darkly, "And Ginny's with him."   
  


* * *

  
  
Draco walked slowly over to where Ginny was attached to the wall, but then—   
  
_Blood…_   
  
Draco gave a strangled cry and fell to his knees.   
  
"Draco, what's wrong?" Ginny called out alarmed. "Draco—"   
  
"I'm fine," Draco cut her off, in a low controlled voice. He slowly got back onto his feet.   
  
_Not now_, he pleaded to the voices in his head. Draco was having a hard time breathing now and it was rather troublesome since he didn't know why, but he couldn't let on to Ginny, so he continued towards her as if nothing was wrong. But she wasn't _that_ stupid; his knees buckling seconds ago must have her worried… just like a Weasley— always worried about everything and everyone else.   
  
Draco now kneeled down on his left knee and took hold of Ginny's right hand. He ignored the concerned expression on her face. "Al—" he'd begun his spell but was forced to stop so that his coughing fit could pass. Ginny waited patiently and didn't say anything comforting because she'd realized her words weren't really having any affect on Draco… no one's words probably ever had any affect on him.   
  
Draco cleared his throat once more after his sudden coughing had stopped and proceeded to saying the spell once again. "Alohomora," he hissed.   
  
Of course, the shackle on Ginny's right arm unbuckled, but Ginny gasped whilst she was rubbing the area around her right wrist. Draco was suddenly shivering and sweating; he looked paler than he already was and he clutched his shirt above the area his heart was.   
  
Had such a simple first year spell drained him of so much energy? Draco's mind was in a state of panic and he had almost no idea what he was doing anymore.   
  
He didn't know why he was straining himself so much to free Ginny Weasley. So far neither of them had done anything all too kind for one another, yet here he was, mustering the last bits of his strength to free Ginny Weasley! Even if he was able to free her, he couldn't expect her to go anywhere what with being trapped in Lucius Malfoy's dungeon! Draco would've laughed at himself if he had enough strength to do so, but a thought struck him: Since his father had _betrayed_ him… his _evil_ father… siding with Weasley here… was it what he was supposed to do? His father's betrayal meant the betrayal of everyone else that respected Lucius Malfoy; did that mean Draco was supposed to switch sides?   
  
Yet another thought hit Draco— a flashback this time. Surprisingly, it was of his younger self speaking to none other than Ginny Weasley.   
  
It was just after the whole ordeal with Ginny and the Chamber of Secrets. Who would've thought that scrawny little girl was behind it all? He remembered that it was just the two of them in that particular corridor; both of them walking towards each other from opposite directions. He could sense that she felt intimidated, but he'd been impressed that her eyes remained locked with his the whole time they walked towards each other. When they stood next to each other, Draco had stopped and she'd followed suit. They stared into one another's eyes for a couple of minutes; he stared into her eyes— pools of chestnut-colored kindness as she stared into his eyes— cloudy, gray storm clouds peeking at the world through slits on his head. Finally, he spoke. "Bravo," he'd said at first. "Good game, Weasley." He spat the name out as though it had been something ill-flavored that had been rolling around on his tongue.   
  
Ginny had given him a curious look, but she still stared at him. Being a second year student at the time, he felt superior to a simple-minded first year _girl_, so he took on an arrogant tone and explained. "Life is a game, Weasley, and for now, I guess you've won… or shall we say, you are winning? You win or lose, Weasley. Even someone as daft as you should understand that… but since you're daft and all, understand this: Your goody-goody tricks won't always work. Cliché as it sounds, Weasley, evil _will_ prevail."   
  
Ginny had been silent now, but she finally spoke. "That's pleasant, Draco," she'd used a tone where it seemed she was trying to annoy him by calling him by his first name. "But according to the words you live by, I guess you're losing."   
  
Draco had been flabbergasted. The Weasley humor had to do in part with her quick mouth, but in reality, the reason he'd decided to pick on her was because he hadn't expected her to mouth off to him.   
  
Ginny said something that sounded like, "Mreh," then she told him, "I've got to go to class now." She'd begun walking away and was behind him now when she spoke again. "By the way, you've a good sense of fashion. Those pants will get you places, you know."   
  
Draco looked down at his leather pants. _She's eleven_! He'd thought to himself. But then again, he was twelve— wait! Was Ginny Weasley checking him out? "Holy Slytherins!" Draco muttered as his face contorted. Ginny turned back and looked at him through her eyelashes, giggled to her pleasure, and was on her way.   
  
Now Draco knew why he'd thought of that moment in his past— Ginny Weasley was the only person who'd ever displayed any sort of kindness, even if it was mixed in with some verbal torture. Evil as he was— if evil was in fact what he was, a true wizard always returned a favor.   
  
"Al— alohom— alo—" Draco had crawled over to Ginny's left wrist now and was trying to undo the chains around it, but it seemed no matter how much he wheezed, his body wouldn't let any spell pass across his tongue! It was getting very hot in the cell and without thought, Draco ripped off his expensive silk black shirt. Fortunately (or unfortunately) he wore a white undershirt beneath his shirt, but this didn't help much; his skin felt as thought it were on fire.   
  
He began coughing again and this time blood came out of his mouth. Ginny, still attached to the dungeon wall by her left wrist, screamed and tried to get away. No matter how horrible Draco was he surely didn't deserve this and Ginny knew it, but she had no idea how to help him.   
  
Suddenly, "Ginny!" A voice called out.   
  
It was Ron, and immediately after that, Draco, exhausted and out of energy fell unconscious on the dungeon floor at Ginny's feet.   
  
**Credits**: Evra Von, and the names Darren Crepsley and Kurda Gavner are all derived from the book, _Trials of Death_, the fifth installment in the _Cirque du Freak_ series written by Darren Shan. Evra Von is a snakeboy, but not a vampire. Mr. Crepsley is a vampire, but he's a good vampire who does not drain his victims of all their blood (only vampaneze do that). Kurda Gavner is derived from the names of two characters (one good, one supposedly evil) and this was a perfect name for the guy with two hundred and sixty wives, since he needed good and evil in him to accomplish such an… accomplishment… o_O; Darren Shan rules and J.K. Rowling seems to think so, too. Her comment on his books are seen on the cover of each of his books: "Fast-paced… full of satisfying macabre touches… compelling… a plot full of twists which leaves the reader hungry for more." So don't sue me! Credit to Darren Shan for dreaming up such wonderful characters (and just know that the way I present them in this fic IS NOT how they really are supposed to behave according to Shan).   
  
**Author's Note**: Wow! What a chapter! I didn't even go over-board on the imagery and descriptions yet it still turned out to be eight pages long! So now the main characters (except Ginny and Draco himself) know Draco's a vampire _and_ we've met yet another vampire— Evra Von (the coolest name on Earth and my favorite character from the _Cirque du Freak_ series). I think I'll be evil and make the whole H/Hr and H/R mystery last throughout a good chunk of this fic. Hermione's not with either guy yet, so it'll take time to hook her up! And let's not forget about Dumblee-dore! O_O He sure does look pretty evil, eh? Well, more about him much later…   
  
**Chapter Nine**: Now _everyone_ finally knows that Draco is a vampire… except Draco himself. *sweatdrop* Draco also has a rather peculiar dream and he finally wakes up as well. We also see a bit of Tom Riddle working in the garden. The two mysterious characters of next chapter? Evra, as he is already a mystery in himself, and Dumbledore himself— but he's always been a mystery.   
  
Hugs to **Bubble**, **Eiko**, **Jonah**, **bitchy brunette**, and **Ayla** for reviewing! Senkyuu!! 


	9. The Vixen

**Chapter 9: The Vixen**   
  
**NOTE:** The big chunk of italic text is a dream sequence. :)   
  
The moment he'd spotted his sister, Ron's heart exploded with relief. The cell was dark even with the open door emitting a small amount of light, but who would miss an open dungeon door and who could overlook his sister's flaming red hair? Weasley hair! "Ginny!" Ron called.   
  
He dashed into the small cell but stopped short of his sister to examine what lay next to him. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the cell, but once they had, he saw Draco Malfoy, all silver hair, lanky body, and expensive clothes of him— unconscious and sprawled across the cell floor. He looked very pale and a puddle of blood was on the floor next to him. On closer inspection, Ron noticed blood speckled all over the front of Draco's white undershirt. His face was paler than normal and even while he lay unconscious on a dungeon floor, his hair still seemed to lay on his head in an elegant fashion. Elegant as it was, however, it was damp from sweat and his face was soaked and dripped sweat as well. Ron kneeled down to get a better look at him. His shirt had damp perspiration spots on the front and back. Ron used the back of his hand to nudge one of Draco's hands to see if he was just sleeping in an inconveniently bloody spot on the dungeon floor, but he still lay motionless. Draco looked feverish yet his hands were deathly cold.   
  
Ron had always imagined finishing off Malfoy in a manner similar to this, but no matter what his fantasies were, he never intended on doing those things… unless he was provoked into doing them, that is. He arched an auburn eyebrow and turned to his sister who was still attached to the cell wall by her left hand. "Ginny," he began, but he was at a loss for words as was she, but he found his tongue soon enough. In what was a voice filled with horror and glee melted in, he exploded, "Ginny! You killed Malfoy?!"   
  
Ginny began mouthing wordlessly and shaking her head, her shiny red hair swaying from side to side as she did so. "Draco— he opened the door— unlocked— he— he— he fainted and—"   
  
"Move," Evra's serious voice said as he rushed past Ron and knelt beside Draco. It was enough to calm Ginny and to make her stop stuttering. Ron moved out of the way and noticed that Harry and Hermione had arrived at the cell as well and they were somewhat speechless as they stared on with interest. Hermione was clutching Harry's arm.   
  
"What's wrong with him?" Ginny finally asked in a tiny voice.   
  
Evra didn't answer. Draco's head was now on Evra's lap and he touched Draco's forehead with the back of his hand and instantly drew it away. "Blankets." Evra said. He looked up and pointed to Harry, Ron and Hermione. "You, you, and you, take your cloaks off and cover him up." He would've asked Ginny as well, but she couldn't remove her cloak since her arm was still attached to the cell wall.   
  
Alarmed by Evra's grave tone of voice, the trio obeyed his requests obediently and covered Draco with their cloaks. Harry's was placed directly on Draco, Ron's on top, and Hermione's in the middle of the two. When Ron bent down to cover Draco with his cloak, he noticed that Draco was shivering and his body quivered so slightly that it was only noticeable this close to him.   
  
Evra's next action startled everyone just a bit. Evra moved Draco's long tendrils of platinum hair away from his forehead and _spit_ on him! Ron's mouth fell open, Hermione held onto Harry's arm even tighter, and Harry and Ginny gasped. Now Evra blew on the saliva on Draco's head and seconds later, the spit dissolved into Draco's head!   
  
"_What_ are you doing?" Ron finally asked. He was thoroughly grossed out now.   
  
Evra didn't pay any mind to Ron. Instead, he groaned and addressed Ginny. "Has he fed yet?"   
  
"What?" Ginny stuttered.   
  
"Blood. Has he had any human blood yet?" Evra asked, irritated now.   
  
"What?" Ginny said again. "Why would he have—"   
  
"Draco's a vampire!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione told her all at once.   
  
"What?" That seemed to be Ginny's favorite word at the moment. Draco was a vampire? Ginny was already sitting, but now she leaned back against the wall. Draco had been untied all this time whilst she had been tied to a wall… yet he hadn't even tried to bite her once! Was this out of kindness? No way out of kindness; Draco Malfoy was anything but kind! Or perhaps it was out of refusal to be controlled by his new thirst for blood— that is, if he was in fact a vampire.   
  
"Alright, who wants to give him some blood? A tablespoon or so will be good enough to wake him up again." Evra looked up at everyone.   
  
Ginny suddenly felt a wave of guilt pass over her. She felt that this was somehow her fault. Maybe he'd fallen ill like this because he was resisting the life-preserving urge to bite her neck. "I'll give him some," Ginny suddenly said. "How can I—"   
  
"No!" Hermione finally spoke letting go of Harry's arm. Harry looked down and he seemed to realize that Hermione had been holding his arm the whole time. Even in the darkness, Ron noticed Harry's cheeks change to a hard-to-notice shade of light pink. "You can't feed him blood unless he wants to drink the blood!"   
  
"Why not?" Evra asked.   
  
"Who cares about that?! Ginny, why in Godric's name do you want to let Malfoy here drink your blood? Are you insane? It's a good thing you weren't sorted into Ravenclaw!" Ron snorted.   
  
"I—"   
  
"What? Have they finally found a smart Ravenclaw?" Draco mumbled in a raspy-soft voice. He was still unconscious, but he was hearing everything everyone was saying. He smacked his lips a bit and went still again.   
  
Everyone was frozen and speechless so Ginny was about to try and explain herself once again, but Hermione was busy stopping Evra from slitting someone's throat. "Once a person is blooded and becomes a vampire, as soon as he or she drinks even a drop of human blood, that individual will remain a vampire forever. However, I heard that there are ways to reverse the vampire effect."   
  
Evra frowned and nodded. "Yes, there is a way to reverse the vampire effect. Not ways, mind you, but a way." He emphasized that there was only one way to reverse Draco's ordeal. He half snorted and through his serious expression, a grin broke out across his face as he looked at Ron. "It still involves blood-sucking though."   
  
"I think I'm going to be sick—" As Ron uttered the words, Hermione quickly conjured a bucket before him just in time.   
  


* * *

  
  
Lucius waited in his parlor. His posture was as straight as his silky hair and his clothes looked as though they'd just been ironed. The effect on the clothes, however, was from a simple elementary spell that he always used to look nice and presentable. Under his right arm he held a long, mahogany cane with a silver snake's head placed on the top. The snake had its mouth open from which two sharp fangs could be seen.   
  
A faint pop was heard. "Lucius, sir."   
  
Mr. Malfoy turned to see behind him. Tom Riddle knelt on his right knee and in his right hand, he held two identical vials, one with a sort of purple colored liquid in it and another with pitch black liquid in it. His hair was dark as ever, his skin deathly pale, but… he wore _Muggle clothes_! In his current form, Riddle looked like a teenage boy probably around Harry's age, so he wore baggy blue jeans and a long-sleeved, black, and hooded pullover sweatshirt with the number "05" stitched onto the front in thick white letters. He wore white socks and brown boots. His hair looked as though he had tried to spike it up, but alas, it appeared as though he'd decided to stay with his normal casually messy look.   
  
Lucius' face contorted at the sight of Tom. "Get _up_! _Why_ do you insist on frolicking about dressed like _that_?"   
  
Tom's left eye began twitching. He cared very much about his appearance and though he also hated what he was wearing at the moment, he didn't appreciate Lucius' reaction to it. "Yes, well, I had to get a drink, and I suppose I overindulged and left my meal fully drained and dead and can you believe that kid was dating a _blind_ girl? Well, she came over and her blood was exceptional too, but—"   
  
Lucius waved a silencing hand at Tom; he'd heard more than enough. When he turned back to face Riddle, his old and faded Slytherin robes had magically replaced the Muggle clothes. Lucius grunted. "The vials. Give them here," he ordered, holding out a hand to receive them.   
  
Tom had an urge to chuck them at Malfoy's forehead so that the tiny glass vials might break and make pretty patterns all over Blondie's forehead, but he restrained himself and handed them to Lucius instead.   
  
Lucius turned the vials over in his hands and sniffed the air haughtily. "I suppose I ought to go get things done myself since _someone_ can't seem to do them correctly the first time around." Mr. Malfoy exhaled and looked at Riddle with an authoritative glare before he suddenly vanished from the parlor room with a mass of black smoke following his departure.   
  
Now that Lucius Malfoy had left the room, Riddle rolled his eyes and walked over to the fireplace. He still wore the old Slytherin robes, but now he folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall on his right side. He stood next to the blazing fire and looked into it while the light from the flames chased one another on Riddle's face. The fireplace supplied the room with the only source of warmth and this peculiar lighting made Tom look tan— almost human. _Almost_, mind you.   
  
"Tom?"   
  
Riddle lazily abandoned his elegant and relaxing pose on the wall and came to stand in front of the enormous fireplace from which flames were licking all about what looked like someone's face— Lord Voldemort's face.   
  
"I am here, Lord," he said yawningly.   
  
"What's this? Have you _lipstick_ on your lips?" Voldemort asked, amusement apparent in his voice.   
  
Riddle cocked an eyebrow and ran his tongue across his lips. "Forgive me, I did not have anything to wipe my mouth with after dinner."   
  
"Forgiven," Voldemort hissed. "I _am_ good at forgiving, am I not?" The Dark Lord gave an evil chortle.   
  
Tom interrupted Voldemort's pleasure with a fiery outburst. "I _am_ the Dark Lord too, am I not? Why does that Malfoy insist on treating me like the underside of a giant's foot? Why do I have to follow that dumb blonde around? _Why_ do I have to follow his orders and _why_—"   
  
"Calm down, _Mars_! It is unfitting for evil minions to whine like children." Voldemort smirked. Though they were technically the same age, Tom was still in the body of a teenage boy.   
  
Tom made a face. "Even though you're my older self, do not call me by that pet name!"   
  
"Love is somewhat blind, is it not?" Voldemort taunted his younger self. After several moments of silent staring, the Dark Lord continued. "Yes, well, just follow him around a bit longer. He's almost served his purpose. It is his son that we need now… since you were not able to get the Weasley boy. But I'm sure Malfoy won't be able to get a hold of him either with Potter around." Voldemort snorted then added, "But you can have Lucius Malfoy over for dinner after I'm done with him if you desire."   
  
Tom licked his lips in response.   
  
"And before you go, Mars," Voldemort smirked as Tom's left eye began twitching, "check the table in the hallway. I believe a note for you has been placed atop it."   
  
Tom stalked out of the room, cursing his senior self. On the table in the hall lay a folded piece of parchment sealed with dark green wax on which the Malfoy family seal was stamped. Riddle ripped the note open and read aloud: _Tom, the garden needs to be tended to and there are some dirty cloaks in the wardrobe that need cleaning. Since I am out doing significant errands, I trust this won't be too troublesome for you. –Lucius Drakon Malfoy VII._   
  
Riddle's fingers immediately emitted fire from their tips and the note burned away in two seconds flat. "Curse you, Malfoy," he muttered as he made his way toward the greenhouse.   
  


* * *

  
  
_Draco fumbled about and looked around, but everywhere he looked was dark; he was locked in the darkness and there was no way out— not a single exit, door— not even a stray ray of light could be seen. Where was he? Draco listened and he heard faint voices— not the voices that had recently moved into his head, but familiar voices.   
  
Potter? Weasley? The Mudblood and Ginny too? What was going on? Why was it that he could hear their voices, faint as they were, but could not see them? Wait... he couldn't be blind, could he? Since a Malfoy never panicked, Draco began frantically running around and yelling for help instead.   
  
Suddenly, Draco stopped where he was. Two red specks could be seen on the horizon of the far away darkness. He had a feeling this wasn't exactly the type of help he wanted.   
  
Draco began coughing again and though he was in a dark place like this, he could tell he still wasn't stable; everything around him was becoming blurry again, even though it's hard to tell when darkness is blurry. When he looked up again, the red eyes were only inches away from his face. Draco saw the eyes and gave out an alarmed cry as he jumped back. He would have fallen over, but something had stopped his fall.   
  
His vision wasn't doing too well and his legs were wobbly now, too. Draco cautiously backed away from the two figures before him and now that his eyes were more accustomed to the darkness, he scanned the figures before him.   
  
He looked at them from head to toe. His mind was beginning to feel groggy now. He tried to get a closer look, but this was the best he could get. From the figure on the left, he was feeling some serious evil black magic aura and the figure on the right emitted a very pure and unsoiled type of white magic aura. Their glowing red eyes made Draco rather uncomfortable as well. The two auras mixing together was beginning to make him feel like he was swaying back and forth even though he was standing still… or was he?   
  
Both figures standing in front of Draco were females. They looked identical, but small differences in trivial attributes such as height made it clear that they were just uncannily similar looking. Both girls had flaming red hair, fair skin, and piercing eyes. That was all Draco could take note of, however, for a moment later, both women now approached him— almost gliding towards him.   
  
Draco tried to back away, but lost his footing and as he fell, the girl on the left, the one with evil aura, caught him. He felt as though he was struggling to get out of her arms, but his arms and legs hadn't budged at all.   
  
Now the girl from the right, the pure one, approached him. Her face lowered to his sagging body and her lips came closer and closer to his neck. Just as she opened her mouth, the girl that was holding him had swooped down and dug her teeth into his neck!   
  
Draco's eyes flew open and he opened his mouth to scream, but no sound would come out. A shocking rainbow of colors ran across the backs of his eyelids and the pain was almost unbearable. His breathing became more rapid and he felt as though his brain was rolling around in his head. He began coughing again— it was more like wheezing since it was hard to cough with the girl stuck on his throat. He felt warm liquid come up from his throat, coat the backs of his teeth and splatter about his shirt, but he didn't care now. He just wanted to get away now— anywhere warm with light… a fire… because it was so terribly cold where he was now.   
  
The girl holding him finally removed her mouth from Draco's neck, blood trickling down the left side of her smiling mouth. Draco wanted to put his hand to his neck so that he could stop some of the bleeding, but he was drained of all his energy. The evil woman suddenly let go of Draco and watched the top half of his body fall twelve inches or so to the ground. She smirked and disappeared with a faint popping sound.   
  
Now what was he supposed to do? Draco lay helpless on the ground for a few seconds, not even enough time to relax his breathing, before he saw the blurry face of the other redheaded girl.   
  
Draco was so cold now, but as she came nearer, his fingers began tingling, then his arms, and the rest of his body; she emitted such warmth.   
  
Draco wasn't able to speak, he couldn't move, and he couldn't even see properly. The one thing he wanted more than anything now was for that warm woman, whether she was evil or not, to hold him… hold him very tight. As if his wish had been answered, the girl's face began to come closer to his; Draco thought she actually might put her arms around him, but that is not what happened. This vixen went for his neck as well.   
  
Draco's stomach lurched and he closed his eyes and tried to tense his muscles and prepare himself for the bite from her, but within seconds, he opened his eyes again. Was she… the redhead was kissing his neck?!   
  
Try as he might, he still could not move his body, but as soon as the pure woman's head began backing away from his neck, a sense of relief passed over his body, but not because she had retreated, but because the pain in his neck was neutralizing!   
  
The girl then took the index and middle fingers of her right hand and touched them to her lips. She looked at her fingers and then looked at Draco. She finally spoke, and her voice seemed to penetrate the darkness and echo throughout the space that he was in, even though he wasn't sure if there were walls around him to cause the echoing. "Do you not bleed?" She asked him.   
  
However, before he could even answer, the image of the redheaded girl was completely washed away from his vision._   
  
Draco felt some of his strength surge back into his body and though his eyes were closed, he felt as though he was in a different place. It was cold, but it was considerably warmer than where he had been. He could hear choking and gurgling sounds from someone, a deep voice chuckling, and a feminine voice making remarks in a worried tone.   
  
Slowly, he moved his left arm to his neck and felt where the girl with the dark aura had bitten him; he felt a healed scar beneath his fingertips. Draco kept feeling the scar mark; it frightened him a bit since he had never injured his neck before… unless you counted his dream.   
  
He finally decided to open his eyes a bit, but he closed them quickly due to the new lighting conditions. He opened his eyes a bit more gingerly this time, blinked a few quick blinks before he tried to sit up. He lifted his head a bit, but he was angry to discover that that was all he could manage at the time.   
  
"Draco, you're up!" A voice whispered softly in his ear.   
  
Draco slowly rolled his head over to see who it was. Ginny Weasley. Then he suddenly remembered in a flood of memories what had happened before he had blacked out.   
  
Ginny was still attached to the wall— but her brother was here! Surely he could have freed her!   
  
"Weas—" He'd begun to say, but he choked on the words instead. He'd also turned his head to look at Ron, but the quick motion he'd used to turn his head over had left his earlobes drumming and the rest of his head dancing to the beat— or rather offbeat.   
  
"Draco, how do you feel?" Ginny said in a more solid but caring voice.   
  
"Like shit."   
  
"That's good, be glad you can feel at all," Evra piped in with a grin.   
  
"Where'd you get this clown?" Draco asked Ginny.   
  
"He's not a clown, he's a snakeman. His name is Evra Von and he saved your life." Ginny clarified.   
  
"Mmf, good for him," Draco said tiredly.   
  
Everyone had noticed Draco was conscious again, and began moving a bit closer to him. Hermione was debating whether or not she wanted to go see Draco; Ron was still preoccupied with the bucket. She decided to help Ron first.   
  
Draco tried to go for a genuine Malfoy smirk, but he only got a weak grin out of his efforts. "How do I look?" He asked Ginny.   
  
The question caught her off-guard, but she recovered quickly. "Pale," she'd replied with her own smirk.   
  
"And?" Draco asked.   
  
"And that's all," Ginny said, choosing not to play into his egotistical games at the moment.   
  
"Still dating the wall?" Draco asked her.   
  
She looked at her arm and realized Draco was trying to be funny. She exhaled, rolled her eyes, and responded, "At least I'm not stuck to you."   
  
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Draco asked with a light cough.   
  
Ginny's eyes narrowed and she clenched her fists. "It means I'd rather stay stuck on this wall forever than to have you roll over and die trying to _Alohomora_ these locks open! That's what I mean! You are such a frickin' idiot, you know that? You nearly killed yourself and you're practically half dead now and your pants come with wands and you insist on cracking jokes about me dating the damn wall?!" Ginny began breathing loudly; she'd just screamed at Draco and most of what she'd said had had nothing to do with her 'dating the wall'. She was angry with him, but she began blushing furiously when she realized everyone in the cell was staring at her.   
  
Ginny looked back at Draco now and he slowly turned his head away from her and closed his eyes. He didn't even want to look her now.   
  
There was a pregnant pause, but it was finally broken. Ron sheepishly looked up from his bucket. "He buys his pants and wands together?"   
  
Just about everyone cocked an eyebrow at him whilst Draco chose to remain motionless; he was enjoying the warmth of the atmosphere about him… he could feel it… such a warm aura…   
  


* * *

Tom was finished with his garden chores after the fully-grown mandrakes had been fed. He tucked his wand away under his robes and stormed across the greenhouse grounds, kicking a tipped over bucket through a glass window on his way out. He groaned and was about to _reparo_ the window when he nearly slipped on something on the ground.   
  
He hadn't fallen on his bum since he had grabbed onto the trunk of a nearby tree. Forgetting the window, Tom lowered himself to the ground to see what he'd stepped on.   
  
Whatever it was, it glimmered even in the dimly lighted greenhouse. Riddle scooped some of it into his fingers. _Slime?!_ He thought to himself. He gingerly moved his hand toward his nose and sniffed the slime; it had no odor. Then in one quick motion, Tom ran the tip of his index finger across his tongue to see if he could taste it, but immediately began coughing out the slime that had touched his tongue.   
  
"Snake!" Tom scowled aloud.   
  
"Mmmmmm," a deep, velvety feminine voice drawled. "Evra's back," she said, excitement and pleasure apparent in her tone.   
  
After Tom had finished spitting out the rest of the snakeman's slime, he stood upright again and addressed Blaise Zabini with a curt nod. She was dressed in a long and finely ornate black and dark emerald dress that fit rather tightly from her waist up. Her hair was twirled into ringlets and the curls tumbled over one another as Blaise moved around. Tom had always liked her sense of fashion. "What brings you here?"   
  
"Oh, you know, I was just in the neighborhood." Blaise smirked.   
  
"And baldy?"   
  
This caused Blaise to suddenly laugh. "He likes to go by 'Headmaster' these days!" Tom allowed a faint snort to escape him, but remained unperturbed, nonetheless. "Yes, but he'll be coming soon. He's got two or three more people to take care of, I believe," she said thoughtfully.   
  
"Brilliant," Tom said, thoroughly pleased. "Shall we go then?" Tom asked, offering his right arm to Blaise.   
  
**Author's Note:** This chapter was written _before_ the release of the fifth _Harry Potter_ book, so I had no way of knowing that a character mentioned in chapter 8 of this fic would be the one to die! But don't worry! I've figured out a way around it, which will be presented either chapter 11 or 12! Now you know! And isn't everyone glad Draco's okay? ^_^   
  
**Chapter Ten:** Look! We're into the double digits! *rofl* Well, in this next chapter we see a character that was mentioned before just briefly. No, it's not the person who died in OotP, but another person… only Erika caught it. :) But that'll happen only after Draco gets some strength, and who better to give it to him than—?!   
  
Yosh! Joya's evil! I'm not going to tell who Draco's getting strength from! But this chapter summary will be a walk in the park compared to the end of the _next_ chapter! *evil grin* Eiko will be having a poor lil heart attack by then... ^^;   
  
Thanks to **Bubble**, **Madussa**, **MelissaAdams**, **Erika**, **Janel**, **Guess** *cough*, **Faith**, **bitchy brunette**, and **Lily Among the Thorns–89** for the comments! So many commenters!! *cries tears of joy* I'm drunk on ego-boosts! Some of you actually stuck me in your favorite fics section?! *stares* Whoa… ^^; 


	10. Back from the Dead

**Chapter 10: Back from the Dead**   
  
"So you're the vampire, eh?" Evra asked as though he were asking Draco about the weather. "You look strikingly like my master, you know—?"   
  
Draco had had his eyes closed and his head turned away from Ginny and towards Evra, but he abruptly flicked his eyes open and felt his heartbeat quicken. "You think I'm a what?" Draco asked as furiously as he could in his current state.   
  
"A vampire, boy! Welcome to the gang!" Evra said, sluggishly punching Draco's arm.   
  
"I am NOT a—" Draco had tried to fling himself up into a sitting position, but he hadn't had enough strength to even lift his head five inches; his head fell back onto the dungeon floor. Outraged that he had to lie on the floor like a helpless baby, he gritted his teeth, looked at Evra through squinted eyes and restated what he'd been trying to say. "I am **NOT** a vampire! I am a pureblooded wizard! A _Malfoy_!"   
  
"So _that's_ why you look so much like the master! You're his son!" Evra declared, chuckling to himself.   
  
Draco was now trying to use his elbows to prop himself up, but wasn't having any real success at this either. "You don't work for my father! I would—"   
  
"Tut tut!" Evra said, placing a slimy green finger on Draco's lips to silence him. Instead of making Draco go silent, it made him erupt into a coughing fit; placing slime on anyone's lips ought to produce a similar reaction. "He's delirious! Who wants to transfer some power into him?" Evra turned to everyone, his chin making a big sweeping motion through the air as he did so.   
  
"I'll give him some power," Ginny quietly volunteered, avoiding Ron's eyes.   
  
"Ginny!" Ron exploded.   
  
"That's fine and dandy," Evra said, ignoring Ron's outburst, "but I forgot to mention, you have to be a male to transfer energy to him."   
  
"Oh," Ginny trailed off.   
  
"Why don't _you_ do it then?" Ron asked.   
  
"Because," Evra said lightly, "I'm part snake! I _could_ give him energy, but it'd also kill him since right now he is a vampire!" He nearly snarled the last part.   
  
"He is not a full vampire yet!" Hermione countered. "He's not drank any human blood! You can't call him a vampire yet!"   
  
Had Ron been in this situation, he would've been confused by now, but Draco knew what they were talking about; he'd read about vampires in many books.   
  
Evra rolled his eyes. "Whatever! He's still part vampire. Hurry up and decide between the two of you," he looked at Harry and Ron.   
  
Hermione turned to her boys. Ron was absolutely fuming now. The Malfoys were one of the top enemies of his family and Draco and his cronies had been his enemies at school too. But Draco was an enemy of Harry too, but he didn't hold such a large grudge against him… did he? Harry also looked so worn out; he hadn't slept much and though they had apparated outside of Malfoy Manor, the trip into the mansion seemed to have worn him out as well—   
  
"I'll do it," Harry said wearily, causing Hermione to snap to attention again. "What do I have to do?" He dragged his feet to where Draco lay and Evra sat.   
  
"Harry!" Ron yelled.   
  
"What?" Harry snapped back. "Do _you_ want to do it?"   
  
Ron cowered at Harry's sudden outburst. "No," he trailed off. "But can't we just leave him here?" Ron asked.   
  
"No!" Ginny told her brother. "We can't leave him! His father betrayed him! He's like one of us now—"   
  
"I will _never_ be like one of you _filthy_ Mudblood loving fools," Draco growled.   
  
"Hey!" Hermione said.   
  
"See?" Ron said loudly over Hermione's protest. "He doesn't need our help!"   
  
"He never said he didn't want our help!" Ginny hollered back.   
  
"Oh, yeah, you're right," Ron said sarcastically, "but the fact that he's laying there like a _filthy_ rug and insulting us makes it even more just for us to put him back on his feet so he can run to daddy dear and order our heads to be chopped off!"   
  
"Get your heads chopped off later," Evra interrupted Ron again. "This guy's not going to last in this cell much longer in this state—"   
  
"Why?" Ron asked scathingly.   
  
Evra closed his eyes, annoyed at being cut off by Ron, but not noting that he had also been interrupting Ron. He opened his eyes again. "_If_ he stays here like this any longer, his strength will take too long to come back. He'll freeze to death before his strength is fully restored naturally. Vampire Wizards can use magic, but like she said," he pointed to Hermione, "he's not a vampire yet and he's not really a full wizard at the moment; he's hovering somewhere in-between those two."   
  
"So?" Ron asked in the same bitter tone but in truth, still confused.   
  
"Alright, let me make this simpler for you," Evra said irked. "You humans have warm-blooded and cold-blooded animals. No animal is mediocre-blooded; you're one or the other. If slick over here," he hit Draco's shoulder with the back of his hand, "stays in this halfway area for long, it'll kill him. Why?" Evra asked the question before Ron could and then answered it himself. "This space between being a vampire or wizard, or in the example, between a warm-blooded or cold-blooded animal, well, this space is not supposed to exist, meaning young Malfoy here is not really supposed to exist."   
  
Ron snorted and muttered, "That'd make the world spin easier."   
  
"Alright, Scarhead, sit," Evra instructed Harry quickly.   
  
Ginny noticed Draco's left eye twitching ever so slightly. She could tell that he hated the idea of receiving help from anyone. She almost felt sorry for him, but remembered toward the end of her fourth year and his fifth year at Hogwarts how he had taken such pleasure in trying to expel her and several other Gryffindors. The Bat Bogey Hex she'd placed on him had been brilliant. A small grin snaked its way across Ginny's face. It didn't matter about Draco's dignity at the moment; his life was more important… that stupid Slytherin toad-rat.   
  
"You sure you want to do this?" Evra asked Harry. "Your redheaded mate over there looks like he has more energy to spare."   
  
Ron made a face that looked as though he was pouting and Harry grimaced. "Just tell me what I have to do. The sooner I do this, the sooner we can leave." Harry said.   
  
Draco's eyes were still closed.   
  
"Right then," Evra continued. "Place your wand to his heart."   
  
Harry positioned his wand an inch above Draco's chest, but Evra nearly jabbed the wand into Draco's body, the surprise causing Draco's eyes to fly open.   
  
"I said to place it to his heart! Not hover, not float, but _place_!"   
  
"Yeah, sorry," Harry muttered.   
  
"Good for nothing…" Draco had trailed off and started mumbling a colorful string of words most likely about Evra.   
  
The snakeman ignored Draco and continued to counsel Harry. "Listen carefully and then commence. Do not lift your wand off of him. Trace a circle around his heart with your wand then say _Thoma keh ahmee theeboe **akón**!_ Make sure you greatly emphasize the _akón_. You'll feel a slight jolt as though you were using a Port Key, and you may feel a bit weary but you should expect that since this is a very advanced spell… but that's all the spell book said." Evra scratched his nose while he thought about the spell but suddenly stopped scratching as though he'd abandoned thinking about it. "Any questions?"   
  
"No," Harry stuttered a bit, answering as though he were asking a question.   
  
"Great. You?" Evra asked Draco.   
  
"Let's tango," he grumbled.   
  
"Fantastic! Let's do it then! Everyone else, back away— no, you, stuck on the wall… you can stay there since we can't really move you yet… just stay close to the wall."   
  
Ginny had an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach and looked to the opposite side of the room at Ron for comfort, but he was too busy looking at his best friend. Harry looked awfully aloof at the moment. She could tell by his furrowed brows that he was a bit nervous about conducting this spell, but he also looked rather groggy. She remembered Hermione had talked to her about how she'd been worried about Harry's recent changes, but Ginny hadn't noticed until now.   
  
It was strange, but looking at Harry and Draco at that moment, probably two of the brightest wizards in their class and also the two most opposing people in their class, Ginny noticed that these two were so alike. Both were built tall and slender, each had the same piercing gaze and the same elegant way of doing things. Though Harry's hair was far messier and darker than Draco's, both boys' hair seemed to lay in the same lazy fashion right now— damp with sweat, fringe dangling just above the eyes.   
  
Yet they differed in so many ways as well. Draco seemed so tense all the time as though he were trying to hide everything from view, even when holding his wand he'd grip it so hard that the knuckles of his left hand would turn white. But Harry tried to go about everything in a relaxed fashion. He held his wand in his write hand as though he were shaking hands and when Harry was angry, you knew he was angry; when he was happy, you knew he was happy.   
  
Those were just the minute and trivial things Ginny had noticed… was it really okay for two people that were so different to be mixing their powers? No… Ginny thought to herself, _they're not really too different_. She had compared them herself! But why did she have a bad feeling about this?   
  
If Ginny had any opposition, it was too late; when she reeled back into reality, she eyed Harry just in time to see his wand begin to trace the circle around Draco's chest. She looked at Draco and he lay as still as possible, his mouth pursed shut and his nostrils flared as he breathed heavily, his eyes following Harry's wand at all times.   
  
Harry's wand finally returned to the original spot it had been touching on Draco's white shirt. He took a deep breath and began the incantation. "_Thoma keh ahmee theeboe **akón**!_"   
  
Harry put great and loud emphasis on the last word of the spell as he was instructed to do. This was followed by a pregnant pause that seemed to last an eternity but moments later, Harry felt his wand begin to vibrate.   
  
Draco felt Harry's wand and he opened his mouth slightly to gasp, but it turned into a groan and then a scream. A large radius of glowing black light began to emit from Harry's wand and Harry was beginning to feel dizzy— not dizzy like spinning in circles, but dizzy like he was going to be sick. Harry tried to pull his wand off of Draco, but it would not budge.   
  
Ginny looked past the two and saw that Ron and Hermione were staring on horror-struck. When she looked back at Harry and Draco, she could not see them; the glowing black light had completely surrounded the boys and Evra, Ron, and Hermione were on the other side. What was going on in there?   
  
At first the strength was leaving through Harry's arm into Draco's chest quite slowly, but suddenly, Harry felt his strength surge out of him— he felt as though all his power, energy, strength, _everything_ inside of him was flooding into Draco. He had to make this stop— he felt like he might die!   
  
Harry had had his eyes closed the whole while, but he finally opened his eyes when his ears began ringing. He looked down at Draco and was shocked when he realized his ears had not been ringing— Draco had been _screaming_! Malfoy's eyes were large, open and circular; his pallor made him look nearly translucent and his mouth was open gruesomely wide. It looked as though Malfoy was worse off than Harry was at the moment.   
  
Harry continued trying to pull his wand away from Draco. This spell seemed to have been in effect for hours, but a mere minute at the most had passed by. Teeth gritted and face screwed up with concentration, Harry pulled hard again, but he only managed to knee Draco's side. As he readjusted his hand and gripped harder, Harry's brilliant green eyes flicked open and an idea like a candle in the dark emerged in his mind. He didn't need to pull the wand off Malfoy; he just needed to get his hand off his wand!   
  
He tried to take his fingers off his wand, but it was like Harry's fingers were metal and were attracted to his magnetic wand. Every time he tried to pull his wand away or release his fingers, he was also using up strength. This would have to be an all or nothing attempt. Mustering every bit of strength he could find in himself, Harry slowly pried his shaking fingers off the wand. Just as his last finger left the wooden hilt of the wand, both Harry and Draco screamed louder as the black light began to waver. Then unexpectedly, the light gathered together and rammed into Harry! Harry shot back away from Draco and his crash landing was cushioned by whomever it was he had landed on.   
  
Harry's head was aching now and he didn't want to, or maybe he couldn't open his eyes.   
  
"Harry!" he heard. "Harry! If you're all right, mind getting off me?"   
  
"Ron! He is NOT all right! He wouldn't be laying on you if he was fine!" Hermione yelled. Harry felt his head bounce slightly on Ron's chest; Hermione had whacked Ron across the back of his head. Harry's eyes were still closed but he felt Hermione's slender fingers brushing aside the hair on his forehead. "Harry? Harry, can you hear me?"   
  
"Or me? The one pinned to the wall by Harry the Boulder?" Ron wheezed.   
  
Harry groggily came back to his senses. He rolled his head side to side very slowly and finally blinked his eyes open. He was drenched in sweat, shaking, and felt totally drained of his strength.   
  
"Okay! Up we go!" Harry saw Hermione's bushy head whiz past his eyes in a blur of colors and felt two strong hands put him on his feet. "Can you stand?" It was Evra. Evra had placed his hands under Harry's arms and had pulled him up. Unexpectedly, Evra let go of him to see if Harry could stay on his feet.   
  
To Harry, his legs felt like toothpicks that were asked to support a tree. As his right leg began to buckle, Harry stepped out with his left leg hoping it would hold his body's weight, but as that leg began to buckle as well, he bumped into the wall and tried standing still, but teetered dangerously before he finally fell onto someone. He felt fuzzy hair on his neck; Hermione had caught him.   
  
Hermione scowled at Evra. "Harry, sit down," she said soothingly. There was nothing else Harry really cared about at the moment so he did as he was told. He sat against the wall and began breathing slowly. He felt it was good to catch his breath first before trying to stand up again.   
  
Hermione had kneeled down to help Harry into a sitting position but sprang right back up when he was situated. "Evra Von, what the bloody hell was that all about?"   
  
"Hermione!" Ron gasped at her language.   
  
"It was Dark Magic, _that's_ what it was," Draco's icy voice hissed. A round of collective gasping could be heard at this news.   
  
Draco had managed to sit up on his own, but he still looked very pale. In any case, he looked better than Harry, who still seemed drowsy.   
  
"Potter, you're drooling," Draco pointed out.   
  
"Don't you say a bloody damn word!" Hermione growled at Draco. "Sit and heal! Harry wouldn't be like this," she flung out an arm toward Harry who was in fact drooling, "if it hadn't been for you!"   
  
"Oh? So it's _my_ fault for becoming a vampire without knowing it, Mudblood?"   
  
"You're not a vampire yet and yes, this is all your stupid fault, so shut it!" Hermione barked, choosing to ignore his snide remarks. Then she rounded on Evra. "What in Merlin's name was this supposedly Dark Magic spell?" Hermione was breathing loudly through her mouth and her face was red.   
  
Evra raised his eyebrows at Hermione's shocked reaction. "It's exactly what I told you it was. He has some strength now," he said, pointing to Draco who was now sitting up without help from the wall.   
  
Hermione closed her eyes and pursed her lips in frustration then opened her eyes again. "And this was black magic?" She asked.   
  
"No," Evra answered.   
  
"But he just said—"   
  
"Oh yes it was Dark Magic!" Ginny cut Hermione off. Though she was still attached to the wall, she chose to stand up now. She stomped her foot and declared, "If anyone, _I_ would know what Dark Magic is!"   
  
"Oh?" Evra said, interested. He clapped his hands together and sat down cross-legged in one swift motion. "Story time!" He chimed.   
  
"Story time my arse!" Ron suddenly stood up, fists clenched. He had been kneeling beside Harry wiping drool and sweat off his face, trying to get him back to normal. "If Ginny says it's Dark Magic, it's Dark Magic! Explain yourself you good for nothing, yellow-bellied, scaly—"   
  
"Ron, calm down," Hermione put a hand on his shoulder.   
  
"Calm down?" Ron whirled around almost whacking Hermione in the face.   
  
"Yes, look, I can try to use some healing magic on him and then—"   
  
"Hermione, you were just yelling at the toadman over here and now you want me to calm down?" Hermione stared at Ron and he stared back, his cheeks full with color. "And your spells won't work very efficiently against Dark Magic!" Ron had calmed down enough to use a normal voice now.   
  
"We don't even know if it was Dark Magic—"   
  
"Hermione, Ginny was possessed by You-Know-Who! I think her opinion on the matter might overrule yours or anyone else's."   
  
"I know, but— Where do you think you're going?" Hermione whipped out her wand and with a wave, a golden string of light zipped across the room, wrapped itself around Evra's waist and brought him next to Hermione. "Why are you trying to leave?"   
  
Evra rubbed the back of his neck with a slimy hand and chuckled. "I wasn't leaving! I was just walking around while the lovebirds sorted out their arguments!"   
  
Both Hermione and Ron went red in the face and this seemed to have jerked Harry back to his senses a bit. Hermione gripped her wand harder. "One last time," she warned. "Was it Dark Magic or not?"   
  
"Oh fine! Yes, it was! But I wasn't lying! You asked at first if it was _black_ magic and no such term exists. So there." He motioned towards Harry whose head wasn't lolling around anymore. "The kid probably hasn't ever used Dark Magic before, so that's why it's affecting him like that—"   
  
"What? You think they go around teaching us the Dark Arts at school?" Ron asked sarcastically.   
  
"Only if you ask nicely," Draco added in. He was standing up now, but leaning on the wall unnoticeably, hands characteristically stuffed in his trouser pockets.   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "How long until Harry's back to normal?" She asked.   
  
"Twelve minutes and twelve seconds since he started the spell," Evra and Draco said in unison.   
  
Ron arched an auburn eyebrow. "And you've used Dark Magic before?"   
  
"Just on stupid animals and house elves and centaurs and stuff," Draco said in a matter-of-fact tone. "It takes a lot out of you, really, but once you get used to it, it's not so bad." He shrugged his shoulders as Ron looked at him with even greater disgust. Hermione had gasped aloud at his remark on using Dark Magic on house elves.   
  
There was silence as Draco and Ron glared at each other, but Evra had suddenly gotten back onto his feet again. "Anyone have smelling salts?"   
  
"I can conjure some," Hermione said, realizing what the snakeman was getting at. With a wave of her wand, a small square-shaped object that appeared to be damp appeared in Hermione's hand with a faint popping sound accompanying it's entrance.   
  
She stuffed her wand back into her robe pockets and slowly waved it around Harry's nose. Moments later, Harry's eyes were wide open and his face was turning a violent shade of green. "Oh dear, too much!" She tapped the object with her and the smelling salts disappeared. Then she went back to her friend. "Harry? Can you sit up all right?"   
  
Harry coughed a bit and his face was still reacting to the horrible smell. "When did you last wash your socks, Ron?"   
  
"Those were _not_ my socks!" Ron protested.   
  
"Could've been," Draco said, crossing his arms over his chest.   
  
Ron glared at him but turned back towards Harry as he heard a rustling noise. "Harry! Are you sure you can stand up?"   
  
"Yeah, I'm sure," Harry groaned, accidentally pushing too hard on Hermione's shoulder as he got onto his feet.   
  
"So all that yelling could've been spared if you had just told Hermione she could magic some smelling salts in here—"   
  
"Oh, dear Godric!"   
  
"What?" Ron and Ginny said.   
  
"Draco, where are we?" Hermione asked.   
  
"The dungeons," Draco answered as bluntly as he could.   
  
"Is this your house?" She asked. "No, it's Weasley's," Draco spat. "What're you getting at, Granger?"   
  
Ron noticed Hermione was biting her bottom lip; she always bit her bottom lip when thinking so with much effort he held back his response to Draco's ridicule. "Draco, your house is mentioned in _Ancient Dwellings: Dark and Dreary Edition_, and _Mullet-head Manors and Mansions_!"   
  
"Marvelous," Draco said dully.   
  
Hermione furrowed her brows. "The Hogwarts grounds are near here and an enchantment has been placed upon the school so that no one can apparate or disapparate from there. In 382 BC, an early Malfoy stretched the enchantment to a portion of his house: the dungeons. He modified it a bit so that prisoners could not do magic… but I just conjured some smelling salts! And," Hermione pointed her wand at Ginny's arm. "_Alohomora_!" The lock around Ginny's arm burst open and Ginny gratefully cradled her arm and thanked Hermione with a smile. "We're able to do magic in here!"   
  
Everyone was silent and busy looking either at Hermione's mystified face or Ginny's freed arm.   
  
"You're a freak, y'know that? You spend your time memorizing pointless books like that—?"   
  
Hermione gasped again, coincidentally in the middle of what Draco was saying. "Harry! Professor Dumbledore disapparated from of his office the other day!"   
  
"Granger, you're smart, I'll give you that, but a bit mad."   
  
Harry ignored Draco. "Hermione, are you sure? When did this happen?"   
  
"Of course I'm sure! Why would I make up something like this? It was the day I went to see him… about you… and he disapparated to go—"   
  
Hermione went white in the face.   
  
"To go what?" Ron asked.   
  
"I'm sure I remember it clearly! He said he was going to go play Exploding Snap with Mr. Crouch! Mr. Barty Crouch!"   
  
"He received the Dementor's Kiss a couple years or so ago," Ginny said. "He's dead."   
  
"So we thought," Draco added with a puzzled look on his face.   
  
Everyone in the cell followed Draco's gaze to the entrance of the cell where a young looking man stood looking rather arrogant— but in Malfoy Manor, who _didn't_ look arrogant? He was of average height, had finely groomed dark brown hair, a youthful face, and a sinister grin. He wore beige trainers with vertical stripes down the fabric and a darker tawny-colored dress shirt; the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.   
  
With a sharp intake of breath, Hermione gasped aloud, "Barty Crouch!"   
  
"But you're supposed to be dead!" Ron insisted.   
  
Mr. Crouch chuckled and invited himself into the room. His ominous cackling continued when he suddenly stopped and looked up sharply towards Ron. "Same to you." A fleeting instant later, Barty Crouch had whipped out a wand from the back pocket of his pants and it was pointed straight at Ron's heart.   
  
"What're you—?"   
  
Crouch ignored whoever it was that had spoken aloud and began his incantation. "Avada—"   
  
**Author's Note:** Yes, _this_ is the part Eiko will be wringing my neck for. What will happen to our precious Ronnikins? Well, I was evil not to tell you… Oh well! I guess I'll stay evil. >D Not really anything else to say about this chapter… it was rather odd to me how I spent eight pages on one scene… *stares* Um… hope it turned out nice. :)   
  
**Cultural Note:** The words in the Dark Magic spell Harry conducted are Bengali. I speak the language, so I would know! ^_^ _Thoma keh ahmee theeboe **akón**_ means, "I will give you **now**". Simple, short, and somewhat appropriate for the spell. Now you know! :)   
  
**Chapter 11:** Nothing major happens in the next chapter, except for some character interaction and a few laughs. It's a nice, funny chapter, in my opinion. But that's just what we need after all these 'deep' chapters, eh?   
  
And thanks so much to all commenters! Kudos and props to **Erika**, **Lily Among the Thorns-89**, **Eiko**, **Jonah**, **Bubble**, **Yuna**, and **bitchy brunette**! All the comments were so nice!! XD 


	11. Arguments

**Chapter 11: Arguments**   
  
Crouch had his wand pointed directly at Ron Weasley's heart. Without the slightest hint of hesitation, he began uttering his unforgivable curse. "Avada Kedavra!"   
  
A blazing line of furious green light shot out of Crouch's wand and it was as if time itself had stopped for those fatal seconds. However, instead of hitting Ron's chest, the spell had hit a space on the wall! Crouch had missed Ron by several _feet_.   
  
How could this be?   
  
Ron's eyes were wide open when he had heard Crouch say the spell, but as soon as he'd spotted the emerald light escape the wand pointed at him, he had shut his eyes tight. Now he gingerly opened his eyes and when he saw he was still standing before all his friends and foes, the tension in his muscles eased a bit, but not much. Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and even Draco looked at him with wide eyes and open mouths. Evra gawked at him and began scratching his head. When Ron finally looked at Crouch, he jumped back into the wall with a yelp of surprise.   
  
Barty Crouch was still standing in the entrance of the cell, but snakelike fingers were wrapped around his wand hand! Ron's eyes went up the arm and their gaze rested uncomfortably on a very pale face.   
  
Lucius Malfoy?   
  
Ron goggled at this. Draco Malfoy's father had just saved his life? This was mad— maybe he was dead, because crazy things like this were just… crazy! Ron continued staring but finally reeled back into reality with a howl of pain.   
  
Draco had pinched Ron's arm!   
  
"What the bloody hell did you do that for?" Ron whispered violently.   
  
"You looked like you needed it." Draco muttered back, not bothering to look at him. Draco had obviously gotten over the surprise of seeing his father redirect a killing curse to the wall. Though Ron also was not looking at Draco, Draco practically foresaw Ron's confused face and explained himself further. "You're not dead, Weasley." Draco rolled his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against the wall.   
  
How could Draco be so relaxed? Though it was hard for him to believe, Ginny had told Ron that Malfoy's own father had betrayed him, and now he was leaning against the wall like he didn't have a care in the world?   
  
"No, Mr. Weasley, you indeed are not dead," Lucius Malfoy's velvety voice floated through the room to Ron's ears. "Thanks to me." He grinned.   
  
Quite uncharacteristically, Harry spoke in the middle of an evil minion's welcoming speech. "Barty Crouch is supposed to be dead! I heard it with my own ears during my fourth year! This _can't_ be him!" He was quite flustered and confused.   
  
"Oh, that," Lucius graciously began explaining. "He was never dead; his soul simply took a _siesta_, you might say. Barty's body was still alive, but his soul was missing, and one can retrieve many things from the Dementors when they work for you."   
  
"So you had a Dementor barf up Barty Crouch's soul?" Ron asked as a look of utter disgust settled upon his face once again.   
  
Mr. Malfoy looked over his nose at Ron and sneered. "Precisely." Lucius suddenly averted his eyes in Draco's direction. "My dear son, why are you shaking? Surely you are not afraid of me?"   
  
Ginny looked over at Draco; his hands were clenched into tight fists— so tight that his knuckles had turned a shade lighter than his skin and the skin around his knuckles were furious blotches of red. Draco certainly was shaking, and Ginny wouldn't blame him for feeling terrified at the mere sight of his father. Ginny grimaced internally; the man didn't even deserve the title of _father_ anymore.   
  
Lucius waked closer to Draco and looked down at his son. "Are you afraid?"   
  
Without thought, Draco's left fist had begun to swing through the air, making a beeline to his father's face, but his fist never made contact! Ginny could see that the muscles in Draco's left arm were fully flexed, but the reason he hadn't been able to injure his father was because Evra had restrained him!   
  
Draco tried to swing out his other arm, but Evra stopped that one too. "Let go of me!" Draco ordered, looking back at Evra through the corner of his eye.   
  
"Now you must be afraid?" Lucius asked, quite entertained by the current situation.   
  
"A Malfoy is never afraid," Draco fed his father.   
  
Since Evra wrenched both of Draco's arms behind him, Draco used the leverage and swung both his feet up to kick his father in the stomach, but Evra simply let go of Draco's arms to counter this. Draco never made contact with his father and he landed on the dungeon floor with a loud thud. He didn't move.   
  
"Draco!" Ginny gasped, wondering if she should rush to his side or hold her ground. She began moving towards him but Hermione held her back. Ginny looked up at Hermione to see why she'd held her back, but Hermione looked as though she'd done nothing of the sort.   
  
Everyone stared at Evra with shock, but finally, of all people, Ron broke in with an outburst. "You bloody pillock! Evra! What'd you do that for? I thought you worked for the Malfoys!"   
  
"Only half correct," Evra said, his tongue slithering slightly out of his mouth as he turned on Ron. "I work for Mr. Malfoy. Never did I say I work for Draco Malfoy—"   
  
"You said you worked for the Malfoys!" Ron interrupted.   
  
Ginny stared on with sudden interest. She never thought Ron would be saying anything to defend Draco Malfoy even in the slightest fashion, yet now, it was as if he'd forgotten that the ultimate minions of evil were standing before him— listening to every insulting word he said!   
  
"Of course I worked for the Malfoys. Mr. Lucius Malfoy insisted that I obey all the Malfoys. But as of late, Draco Malfoy has been excluded from this elite group."   
  
Hermione was taken aback. Evra suddenly spoke with such poise and knowledge. Was his laid-back attitude from before just an act? Or was he intimidated by Lucius Malfoy's presence? And she couldn't quite put her finger on it, but he gave her an uneasy feeling. Not exactly uneasy, but his company made her feel strange in a way.   
  
"Elite? Malfoys are _elite_ now—?"   
  
"Finite Incantatem!" Hermione interrupted Ron. Her wand was pointed at Evra. There was a long moment of stillness and Hermione thought that perhaps her suspicions had been false, but soon, Evra's edges began to get blurry and then they started disappearing until his nearly six foot high stature was now less than three feet.   
  
Harry made an awkward sort of wheezing noise from the back of his throat before he finally pointed at the shrunken form before him. "Kreacher the house elf?!" Harry's mouth was wide open as he stared at the disgruntled old house elf.   
  
Even Ron stopped yelling at "Evra" and turned to see his friend. Color was rapidly flooding back into Harry's face and his fists were clenched tightly at his sides. "YOU BETRAYED SIRIUS!" Harry yelled at him. Tears welling up in his eyes, he began running towards Kreacher with obvious intent to injure. "YOU BLOODY BA—" He suddenly stopped speaking, startled that he wasn't able to move forward any longer. He looked at his sides and Hermione and Ron were holding him back. "WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING?! LET ME GO!" He bellowed.   
  
"Harry, beating him to a pulp—"   
  
"HERMIONE, JUST SHUT IT! I DON'T BLOODY CARE IF HE'S A HOUSE ELF! BULLOCKS TO SPEW!"   
  
_It's S.P.E.W_., Hermione had wanted to say. She was offended that Harry was insulting her organization for house elves, but she made a note to forgive him just this once. After all, Harry had a lot to be upset about.   
  
"Bloody hell," Hermione suddenly heard Ron murmur from Harry's other side. "Bloody hell!!" He said once again, only this time in great anguish.   
  
Harry was still struggling to get at Kreacher when Hermione craned her neck over Harry's back to look at Ron. "Ron what's the—" Hermione scanned the length of room around her, gasped, and involuntarily let go of Harry. "Bloody hell," she whispered, feeling that this was an appropriate situation to use the phrase.   
  
Harry's left side flung toward Kreacher, but it was like Ron's fingers had been glued tightly to Harry's right arm. Harry lay on the ground now, Ron still clutching his right arm when he happened to look around the room as well. He ceased struggling and finally spoke. "Where's Ginny? And Malfoy? Where'd everybody go?"   
  
All three of them had their backs to Kreacher, but when they turned to look at him, the chubby old house elf had vanished as well.   
  


* * *

  
  
Garlic.   
  
Draco sniffed the air a bit more and he had no doubt that he smelled garlic. The scent rushed into his nose and quickly filled his whole head with the horrid smell. He gently opened his eyes and rolled over. He went through a moment of silent panic when he realized he was on a cold floor, but seconds later, he remembered all that had happened.   
  
_Wait! What about those Gryffindor goodies?_   
  
Draco sat up and put his hand to his head. The area above the nape of his neck was bruised and felt as though it was pulsating. He didn't need to look far before his question was partially answered. Ginny Weasley was sleeping rather fitfully in the corner opposite Draco. She was balled up and her arms were hugging her knees tightly to her chest.   
  
"Hey, wake up," he whispered in her ear.   
  
Ginny's eyes immediately flew open to find Draco Malfoy's face scrunched up before her. "Ugh, get away from me!" She moaned. "Stop bothering me!"   
  
"I had no intention of bothering you," Draco retorted, "but I hope that you'll take this time to realize that you snore." He said, even though she really didn't. Ginny looked offended. "Loud." Draco added as an afterthought.   
  
"I do not!" Ginny protested, straightening out her legs and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.   
  
"It doesn't help to deny the fact, Weasley." Before Ginny could speak again, he continued. "So, would you happen to know where we are?"   
  
"No," Ginny said thoughtlessly.   
  
"So they punched your lights out or something before they brought you here?" Draco asked.   
  
"No," Ginny said again.   
  
"Then what were you doing when you were being brought here against your own will?" Draco pressed on, a bit annoyed at this point.   
  
"No! We weren't really _brought_ here," Ginny said. "We just kind of _appeared_ here."   
  
Draco arched an eyebrow. "So we apparated here?"   
  
"Not really," Ginny said, looking pensive. "It was like using a Port Key, except everything didn't swirl into a mesh of colors and we weren't really pulled into the Port Key by our navels."   
  
Draco scoffed. What kind of person thought being pulled by the navel and being transported with a Port Key was the same? "That is so retarded," Draco absentmindedly thought aloud.   
  
Ginny made a face. "What?" She asked, confused.   
  
Draco closed his eyes and opened them again. "Nothing," he said quickly. "Back to the point, then. We were some how transported here, we don't know where everyone else is, and—" Draco couldn't take it anymore. "Bloody hell! Where is that smell coming from?" He bellowed.   
  
Ginny blushed and Draco noticed. "Not _that_ kind of smell, Weasley! I smell…" Draco's nose pointed up to the air. "I smell garlic! And it reeks!"   
  
Ginny had a worried look on her face and she raised both eyebrows. Draco Malfoy was really weird, though he was a lot more dorky than evil, contrary to popular belief. Ginny thought about it and Draco hadn't really done anything bad since they'd met up. She looked up at him now, still smelling the air and trying to locate the source of the so-called odor. _How can he stand there and just let his fringe dangle in front of his eyes like that? It must get annoying_, Ginny thought to herself. _But I suppose it wouldn't go anywhere even if he tried to move it aside_. She laughed inwardly. _Draco's hair was as stubborn as he was!_   
  
Draco spotted Ginny smirking. "What's so funny, Weasley? Is it funny that we don't know where we are? That we're in a tiny room with no hair accessories, expensive clothes, or bathrooms? That this damned room has no door? That I'm a half vampire that might rip your throat out from under your chin any second now? That is smells like garlic?"   
  
Ginny cursed herself for thinking about Malfoy's hair and allowing her imagination to camouflage Malfoy's real personality. "That we're—" Draco was about to go on.   
  
"Shut _up_!" Ginny hollered. "You big crybaby! Honestly, the first thing on your list of missing necessities is _hair accessories_! You're worst than Lavender and Parvati combined and multiplied by eight!"   
  
Draco was about to say something, but all of the sudden, the whole room shook.   
  
"What was that?" Ginny gasped aloud, caught off-guard.   
  
Without warning, the walls of the room gradually became translucent. Once the room had stopped moving, both Draco and Ginny got up and looked out of the windows that used to be walls.   
  
Draco's eyes grew wide.   
  
"Professor Snape's Potions classroom? How'd we get in here?" Ginny asked.   
  
"Who cares how we got in here," Draco started.   
  
"Huh?"   
  
"Why the bloody hell are we so small?"   
  
Ginny jumped back in surprise. Everything around her was enormous! They had been shrunk!   
  


* * *

  
  
"Harry, your elbow is in my mouth!" Ron complained.   
  
He felt the elbow being removed from his mouth.   
  
"How do you know it's _my_ elbow?" Harry said, trying to steady himself and stop his surroundings from spinning.   
  
"Because it tastes like _Dursley à la carte_!"   
  
"How do you know what a Dursley tastes like?" Hermione's smart voice chipped in.   
  
Ron finally sat up, glared at Hermione, and crossed his arms over his chest, accompanied by a, "Humph!"   
  
"Now, if you're done acting like a child, I think it would make sense if we tried to figure out how and why we're back in the Gryffindor common room." With that, Harry and Ron looked at Hermione, confused expressions plaguing their faces.   
  


* * *

  
  
"Okay, Snape definitely needs a new interior designer! Why the bloody hell does he have garlic strung all over the place? — Weasley! What— GET OUT OF MY PANTS!!" Draco's eyes were plates on his face.   
  
"I needed your wand," Ginny said.   
  
"You could've asked," Draco responded.   
  
"And you would've given me your wand just like that?" Ginny asked, raising her eyebrows.   
  
Draco glanced at her with a look of disgust on his face and quickly looked away. "Well, you didn't need to go through my pants."   
  
"Sorry, Malfoy, I'll think about your personal space next time, though I'm sure it's not the first time your personal space has been invaded… though that wouldn't really be considered an _invasion_," she trailed off.   
  
"And _why_ are we talking about my personal space?" Draco asked, annoyance starting to get the better of him.   
  
"Oh gosh, what _is_ that spell?" Ginny thought aloud, twirling Draco's wand in her fingers.   
  
"Ignore me, will you?" Draco said, trying hard to maintain his temper.   
  
"Wait, did you say something?" Ginny asked, a smirk playing at the ends of her lips.   
  
"What is it with you, Weasley? You don't say a single word for six years or something and now that you've got me in a box," Draco threw his hands up at this, "you decide to completely open your big, freckle-surrounded mouth and throw at me everything you've wanted to say since you first laid eyes on me?"   
  
Ginny cocked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm being mean?" She scoffed. "Because that's terribly ironic coming out of your mouth."   
  
"Did I ever say that?"   
  
Ginny smiled sweetly and shrugged her shoulders.   
  
"No, I didn't. So lay off!" Draco shouted.   
  
"Okay, I guess you've a lot to be upset about at the moment." Ginny said. With that, she went back to thinking of the spell that might un-shrink them.   
  
Draco stared, aghast. "What's that supposed to mean?"   
  
"Well, your whole family just decided to saw your limb off the family tree, your father seems to not mind if you die, you're turning into a vampire or something, Blaise Zabini isn't all she's cut out to be, and you're stuck in this hamster cage with me, which is also why you're acting like a child for some odd reason." Ginny explained. "Why wouldn't you be upset?"   
  
Draco's temples flared red. "It's sick how you can talk about me dying in such a singsong voice."   
  
The singsong voice wasn't added intentionally, but Ginny thought back to her first year at Hogwarts. "As if you cared that I nearly died that one time in the Chamber with Tom Riddle."   
  
Very uncharacteristically, Draco snorted.   
  
Ginny scrunched up her nose. "What is it now?"   
  
"Honestly, Weasley, the whole of Slytherin house was talking about it after we found out it was you that had been landed in the Chamber."   
  
"So?" Ginny asked, wondering why Draco was smirking so suddenly.   
  
"So?" Draco mocked, a strange glint in his eye. "Poor Ginny Weasley, always following the shadow of famous Harry Potter and receiving no notice at all! Why else would you go down to the Chamber? But really, rather sad that you had a go at a _dead_ guy—"   
  
"Malfoy!" Shrieked Ginny, understanding where the gist of his explanation was going. "I was eleven! Are you insane?"   
  
"—and you were going on about _my_ personal space—"   
  
Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Shut it, Malfoy."   
  
"—and I can just imagine the look on Potter's face when he got there—"   
  
"I'm warning you," Ginny said, temper rising.   
  
He disregarded Ginny and continued to taunt her. Then, Ginny suddenly began waving Draco's wand around and within seconds, Draco stopped ridiculing her.   
  
That swishing motion! Draco gasped aloud. "Oh, shit!" He hollered, throwing his arms over his face as he quickly got out of the way of the oncoming spell.   
  
Too late for Draco, however. The Bat Bogey hex had already found its target.   
  
**Author's Note:** Whee! Yet another chapter finished. Hope yall liked it and I'm sorry if you thought it was confusing. And sorry it took forever to come out too! Blame school! :x Also, Harry, Ron, and Hermione's location crisis will soon be resolved soon...   
  
**Chapter 12:** This chapter's mainly about Draco and Ginny since I want to get their relationship moving along. Er... that's all... I think...   
  
*steals Eiko's line* Comments keep me sane. I mean... reviews... yeah... *cough* So jumbo chocolate frogs to **Kashew**, **Erika**, **Jonah**, **Crazylily54**, **Lily Among the Thorns-89**, **evil*grrl*13**, **Eiko**, and **natsume2** for reviewing! Yay! Keep it up! XP 


	12. Deception

**Note:** The section of italic text is a dream sequence. :)  
  
**Chapter 12: Deception**   
  
Draco roared in a quivering voice. "GET THEM OFF MY FACE!" His normally velvet-like voice now cut the air bitterly.   
  
Ginny smirked. _Serves him right_, she thought to herself. But when Draco suddenly fell to his knees, she began to worry.   
  
"Draco, it's no big deal. They're just—"   
  
Draco was on his hands and knees now and he was having a coughing fit. He occasionally tried to swipe the squirming creatures off his face, but they would be stuck to his face until somebody undid the spell.   
  
Ginny yelled. "Finite Incantatem!" She gasped when Draco began wheezing.   
  
The tiny beasts vanished from Draco's face. He was panting hard and his left hand clutched at his heart as he tried to steady his breathing.   
  
Thinking the wheezing sounded familiar, Ginny kneeled next to Draco and put a hand on his shoulder. "Draco… do you have asthma?"   
  
Draco stopped breathing for a couple seconds and looked up at Ginny with a bewildered expression on his face. He moved out from under Ginny's hand and leaned on the wall. His legs were bent and his arms rested on his knees at the elbow. He stared at the ceiling and just when Ginny was about to say something, he looked at her. "You're such an idiot." He smirked.   
  
"What?" Ginny exclaimed, flabbergasted.   
  
"You _are_," Draco said. "You nearly killed me just now and the first thing you ask me afterward is if I have asthma? Which, by the way," he clarified, "I don't."   
  
Ginny had been startled at the whole situation that had just occurred and she finally recollected herself. "Well, what was with all that coughing and wheezing?" She was confused now. She'd performed the Bat Bogey hex on her brothers before and the hex had never affected either of them in that way. It was a prank type of spell— it wasn't supposed to kill the victim!   
  
Draco exhaled. "I don't know why it affected me in that way." He thought for a second and said, "Maybe because I'm part vampire or something."   
  
"But vampires can turn into bats," Ginny said.   
  
"No, that's what the kiddy stories say," Draco said, rolling his eyes.   
  
Ginny crossed her arms over her chest. "I wish you _had_ died," she muttered softly.   
  
Not softly enough, however, since she immediately regretted saying it when she saw the drastic change of expressions on Draco's face.   
  
"Dr—"   
  
"I'm afraid of bugs and stuff, alright? Now shut your trap and don't talk to me," Draco spat.   
  
"Draco," Ginny started again, "What I said… I really didn't mean it—"   
  
"I told you to shut up," Draco said emotionlessly.   
  
"Why don't _you_?" A seductive, cold voice said.   
  
Ginny and Draco turned around. It was the life-size form of Professor Dumbledore.   
  


* * *

  
  
The trio was in the boys' dormitory at Gryffindor tower. Harry was resting on an over-sized armchair, Ron sat on the edge of his bed, elbows digging into his thighs as he attempted to pull his hair out and Hermione sat down next to him, placing a comforting hand on his back. "Ron, I'm sure Ginny's fine. She can take care of herself."   
  
Ron had been looking at the floor, but he lifted his head and turned to look at his friend. "I know she can take care of herself, but how can she be fine, Hermione? She's in Malfoy Manor!"   
  
Hermione stared at Ron. He was one to wear his heart on his sleeve and when he was angry or frustrated, he usually yelled and screamed, but now he simply sat very still whilst looking very confused, lost, and frightened all at once. His words were very soft and his voice was deep. "Ron—"   
  
"We have to go get her," Ron interrupted Hermione.   
  
"What?" "You and Harry came to get me. We could use the same route to get back to Malfoy Manor. Hell, we need to get Malfoy out of there too. I don't care if it makes him angry, but even he doesn't deserve to stay in a place like that." Ron said thoughtfully.   
  
"Yeah, but—" Hermione shifted and now faced Ron.   
  
"But what, Hermione?" Ron said, turning to look at her. "I'm going to get Ginny, and you two can come with me if you want. And if you don't mind, I'm taking some of your money to hitch a ride at the Floo Hut."   
  
Ron quickly stood up and was about to walk to the door when he felt Hermione tug at his sleeve. "Wait."   
  
"For what?"   
  
"For me," Hermione said.   
  
The two stared at one another for a bit, Hermione's hand still clutching Ron's sleeve and Ron's eyes gazing deep into Hermione's brown eyes.   
  
"What about Harry?" Ron broke the awkward silence.   
  
Hermione looked back at the armchair where Harry had fallen asleep. He was tired. Without a moment's hesitation, she said, "Leave him."   
  


* * *

  
  
"I mean, _why don't you_?" Professor Dumbledore repeated, now with his usual raspy voice.   
  
Perplexed, Ginny said, "Professor?"   
  
Dumbledore threw his head back and gave a guffaw so loud that it shook the ground beneath Ginny's feet. "You two simply look edible in that box! So small and cute!" He said, in the first high-pitched voice now.   
  
_Cute_, Ginny thought bluntly. She knew Dumbledore was weird, but he had just called Draco and herself 'cute'. He also had more than a frog in his throat.   
  
"Professor, really, are you—?"   
  
"What do you want with us, Blaise?" Draco interrupted, clearly annoyed.   
  
Startled at what Draco had said, Ginny turned to look at Professor Dumbledore. A faint popping sound filled the air and Blaise Zabini now stood where the form of Professor Dumbledore had been standing. Blaise wore a long, frilly, and complicated dress with a neck much too low and a waist much too tight. The dress was green and black, the color combination Blaise was almost never seen without.   
  
After she had completely transformed back into herself, Blaise put her fore finger to her lips and thought aloud, "I really should work on disguising the voice. Mmm… note to self, I guess!"   
  
"What do you want, Blaise?" Draco said again loudly, this time placing spaces between each word.   
  
"Oh yeah!" Blaise giggled. "Forgot! Time to execute _the plan_!" She said in a singsong voice, somehow turning 'plan' into a twelve-syllable word. "And lucky for me that the two people I need are already here." Blaise couldn't help but smirk now. "They're here and nicely shrunk, waiting for me in a box!"   
  
"The plan—?" Draco began to ask, but Ginny interrupted him.   
  
"I've got it!" Ginny got back on her feet, waved her wand hand in the air and bellowed, "_Collapsoendium Revioso_!"   
  
The walls of glass surrounding the two Hogwarts students collapsed and disappeared into thin air. As soon as the glass walls vanished, both Draco and Ginny returned to their normal sizes. Now Ginny conveniently placed herself between Blaise and Draco and directed a stunning curse at Blaise, but Ginny gasped when she saw Blaise sneer just before the spell hit her. With lightning speed, Blaise withdrew a pitch-black feather from the depths of her bosom. Ginny's spell hit the feather and just as the feather was destroyed, Ginny heard a thud behind her.   
  
Draco had keeled over! She immediately knelt down to tend to the half vampire. It appeared that he'd been stunned! But there was no way that could've happened, Ginny thought. _I pointed that curse at Blaise!_   
  
"Pretty cool, eh?" Blaise questioned, a twisted grin resting on her face.   
  
Ginny looked from Draco to Blaise, not sure of what to do. "What did you do to him?" She finally stuttered.   
  
"No," Blaise corrected automatically, "what did _you_ do to him?"   
  
Draco began to stir and finally blinked his eyes open. Draco was about to get up again, but Ginny casually placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him to stay down. Blaise hadn't noticed.   
  
Draco was still angry at Ginny for the last comment. He wasn't sure why though. After all, his father freely spoke of how he wished Draco was dead. In fact, his father had told him things much worse than what Ginny Weasley had said and even so, Ginny had said what she'd said out of anger. She probably didn't even mean it. A person like her could never mean something like that… but his father meant what he said. He always meant what he said.   
  
But why did he care so much when this stupid redhead had told him something he'd heard a million times? Draco made a point to overlook the incident.   
  
"What do you mean what did _I_ do to him?" Draco heard Ginny say.   
  
Draco almost smiled. Weasley was actually kind of cool… in a stupid way of course, he reminded himself. The way she stood there, talking back to Blaise Zabini like that… the way she was protecting him— wait a minute! Why was _she_ protecting _him_?! It was supposed to be the other way around!   
  
"The feather, silly girl! Your spell hit the black feather!" Blaise explained.   
  
"So?"   
  
"Must I lay everything out for you?" Blaise didn't wait for an answer. She produced two more feathers from inside her dress, but this time, one was like the first black one and the other was pure white. "Like the colors? I chose 'em myself. Draco is the black, the usual tortured soul, y'know? And you're white, being virgin-like and anti-evil and everything. Whatever I or anyone else does to the feather also happens to the person it corresponds to. Perfect, isn't it?"   
  
Ginny stared aghast at the insanity Blaise was presenting to her.   
  
"Right then," Blaise continued, seeing Ginny didn't have anything to say. "On with the demonstration! I'll use Draco's feather again!"   
  
"No! Don't!" Ginny exclaimed, rushing to get to her feet and stop Blaise from harming Draco.   
  
Zabini turned to discover Ginny was about to fire off another spell at her.   
  
"Or maybe we'll start with the white feather! _CRUCIO_!"   
  
All at once, the white feather disappeared, Ginny shrieked, collapsing to her knees as she hugged herself and Draco immediately sprung up from his prone position.   
  
Draco glanced at Ginny's tear-streaked face. Blaise's wand was still in the same place in the air, so the spell was still affecting the youngest Weasley. But if Blaise was using all her energy to conduct the spell, Draco had a good chance of hitting her with a dark curse.   
  
He purposely forgot about what happened last time he had used magic in his current state.   
  
Ginny fell onto the floor now, breathing heavily and sobbing softly.   
  
Draco grabbed his wand, not caring about his own physical condition and prepared to fire the curse at Blaise.   
  
But he couldn't, for he too had fallen onto the floor. Somebody was behind him. Draco, weak from whatever spell had blasted him, tried to turn to see who it was, but was unable to since he lost consciousness within seconds, Ginny's whimpering following him into the darkness.   
  


* * *

  
  
"That was easy!" Barty Crouch scoffed. "I knocked him out with petrificus totalus? Looks like he's more than ready for _the plan_ to commence." He grinned to himself and then addressed Blaise. "Miss Zabini, where would you like me to deliver these to?" Crouch was referring to the still forms of Draco and Ginny.   
  
"Don't bother yourself over that. I'll take care of them. Especially him," Blaise said, her voice dripping with a macabre kind of glee.   
  
Crouch looked at Draco and back at Blaise and the crazy expression on her face. It scared him, but he nodded and left the room silently.   
  


* * *

  
  
_Darkness.   
  
Draco was dreaming again. The funny thing was, he knew he was dreaming, yet he couldn't will himself to wake up.   
  
He was standing and was in the same pitch-black darkness that he was once in before. He remembered the two redheaded vixens and as if his memory had come to life, in the blink of an eye, one of them stood before him.   
  
She was adorned in all white robes and the edges of her frame seemed to glow. The angelic colors on her fair skin and her flaming red hair both seemed to penetrate the darkness. Draco noted she was barefooted as she began to walk closer to him   
  
"Do you not bleed?" She asked.   
  
It didn't take long for Draco to remember it was the last thing the red-haired woman had asked him. "Do I not bleed?" Draco questioned, quite befuddled. The girl looked on, her face telling him she was waiting for an answer. "Well," Draco stuttered, "I'm not bleeding _now_, but, er, yes, I _can_ bleed, if that was what you wanted to know." Draco began to back away now—the woman was approaching him, her strange, misty gaze exploring the likes of him the whole while.   
  
Draco looked down and realized he could not see the ground. Then he looked at the vixen's feet—she was gliding! More like floating, really.   
  
In her float-like manner, she quickly made three circles around Draco, examining him carefully as she did this, and then resumed her original position before him. "Do you not bleed?" She asked again, more intensely.   
  
"What—what do you mean do I not bleed?" Draco asked, shoving his hands into his pockets as it was a nervous habit.   
  
And for the first time, the red-haired woman made some sense when she answered Draco's question. "There is no warmth beneath your skin, child. Everybody has a face that they hold inside. It awakes when you close your eyes. It watches when you lie. It laughs when you cry. It sees everything. Yet you walk about, pretending that nothing's wrong when you actually walk about like you're paranoid—looking over your back every spare moment that no one's watching." Draco stared at her puzzled. She continued. "But someone is watching. Someone is always watching. The face inside is watching you, Draco." As she said this, her voice pitch began changing to a familiar sound. He'd heard this voice before.   
  
Draco snapped back to attention. "Listen up—" He mouthed wordlessly for a moment. "Wait, what's your name?" He whacked himself internally. He was acting rather stupidly in his own dream.   
  
"Rain," the girl answered.   
  
"Right. Listen here, Rain! I have no idea what you're babbling on about over here and I most certainly don't have any _faces beneath my skin_," he said, mocking her voice at the last bit.   
  
And now she laughed, startling Draco considerably. "Of course you don't have real faces inside you!"   
  
_Some dream this is turning out to be_, Draco thought to himself.   
  
"But you're doing it again," Rain continued. And within the blink of an eye, she transported from in front of Draco to behind him. Rain whispered into his ear now, causing him to stiffen and his eyes to widen. "You can't hide the fact. You're being watched. In your world, you are the deception." Draco turned now to look at her, but as he did so, Rain was in front of him again. "And being the deception of the world," she continued, "you mustn't allow the world to deceive you."   
  
"But—" Draco had wanted ask something else. However, Rain suddenly disappeared and the red-haired woman who had emitted the evil aura in his previous dream now stood where Rain had stood before. She wore the same style of robes as Rain had, only hers were pitch black. She would've blended in perfectly with the equally dark area surrounding her, but her red hair seemed to pierce the darkness in the vicinity.   
  
Draco only saw her for a second though. The woman zoomed through the air and her hands grabbed Draco's shirt collar and she gave a tug. This all too simple movement made the scene before Draco whirl about and his eyes suddenly snapped open._   
  
Draco sat up abruptly. He remembered getting knocked out and after taking in the milieu, he determined that he hadn't been moved during the time that he had been unconscious. And instantly, he remembered Ginny. She'd saved him… what had happened to her?   
  
Moving his hair out of his eyes, Draco looked straight ahead and a pathetic, crumpled heap lay before him. Ginny's red hair was sprawled about her back and hung limply over her shoulders. The only movement from her was the periodic rising of her back. Otherwise, she was completely motionless.   
  
Draco made a mad dash to where Ginny lay. When he reached her, he gently grasped her shoulders and turned her onto her back, moving her hair out of her face at the same time. She looked deathly pale. Her face was still glimmering from the tears she had cried. _Good_, Draco thought. _Means I haven't been knocked out for too long._   
  
"Ginny!" Draco was about to shake her by the shoulders, but then he scrunched up his nose. He hadn't ever _really_ called Ginny Weasley by her first name. It was weird. But then again, calling all seven Weasleys by their last name was somewhat weird, too, not to mention confusing. He shook his head, his platinum strands of hair elegantly blowing through the air as he did this. "Ginny!" He continued, desperately trying to rouse her. "Ginny! Please, wake up!" Draco didn't know what was going on at his house, but he knew he didn't need to be here anymore and that most certainly meant a Weasley didn't need to be here either.   
  
"Ginny!" Draco almost yelled. He winced at his loud voice, but immediately breathed a sigh of relief as Ginny's eyes began fluttering open. Regaining his reputed behavior, he smirked. "Stop fluttering those lashes at me, Weasley. What would Potter say?"   
  
"I don't like Harry anymore," Ginny muttered. "And what was wrong with calling me Ginny?" She asked as she sat up with unnoticed help from Draco.   
  
"Nothing was—" Draco started to say, but Ginny suddenly sat up straight and gazed directly into his eyes.   
  
"Draco Malfoy," Ginny said.   
  
"Er… yeah?" Draco said, cocking an eyebrow.   
  
"Draco Malfoy, I love you." Ginny said, in a funny tinny voice.   
  
Draco simply mouthed wordlessly and when he tried to say something, it came out as an awkward choking sound.   
  
Ginny sat completely still and ignored this outburst from Draco. "I love you, Draco Malfoy, and I want you to love me, too."   
  
Draco opened his mouth to say something but scratched the back of his head instead. "Uhm…" He stuttered. What the hell was wrong with her? "You know, the Cruciatus curse has varied effects and… uh…" Draco mumbled.   
  
"I looked for you everywhere," Ginny continued, unfazed. "I wondered when I'd find you. But now I'm finished searching. I've found my soulmate. Only you can truly love me." Ginny slid across the floor and lay her head on Draco's should. She wrapped her arms around him and continued, softly whispering into his ear. "There were times when I dreamed. There were those nights I could not sleep. Why?" Ginny paused. "I knew that somewhere out there, you were waiting for me." And now she blew into his ear.   
  
Draco felt an unknown shiver run through his body. He was feeling snug and warm all of the sudden—he felt something he'd never felt before. What was happening? Now he felt his own arm, almost unwillingly, drape itself across Ginny's slender shoulders. He pulled her closer.   
  
"Ginny…"   
  
"There were whispers I heard," she continued. "There were the clouds, Draco… the clouds you always hid behind. The clouds whispered to me. They always cried. They cried for us. But now… now that you're with me…" Ginny looked up as though she could see the sky right through the ceiling. "It's not raining anymore."   
  
Draco felt Ginny's dainty fingers softly grasp his chin and turn his head towards her. They looked into one another's eyes now. Ginny peeked up at his face through her seemingly vulnerable eyes and Draco stared at Ginny through a thin curtain of silver hair, an aghast and astounded look flooding his countenance all the while.   
  
"I'm finally yours and you're finally mine," Ginny whispered. She moved her face closer to his. "Every time the seasons change, we'll be together," she said even softer. She came closer. "The sun shall rise for us at the dawn of every new day. _I will love you and you will want me_." They were nose-to-nose and when she spoke, her voice was barely audible, but Draco had no time to think, for they weren't nose-to-nose much longer— they were mouth-to-mouth. He gasped when their lips touched, but soon he'd slowly closed his eyes and began melting into the kiss.   
  
Somehow, the kiss felt right. It just felt _right_. He felt Ginny's fingers crawling up his back. He let her. His fingers ran through Ginny's hair. She let him.   
  
And suddenly, Draco saw the face of the dark and evil vixen from his dreams. Her face flashed across the backs of his eyelids and Rain's words echoed loudly in his mind: _You are the deception of this world. You mustn't let the world deceive you._   
  
Draco's eyes flew open immediately and he pushed Ginny away rather violently. But when he saw Ginny, he was instantly on his feet.   
  
He had been snogging Blaise Zabini!   
  
She quickly composed herself and got to her feet as well. She was quite out of breath. "I'm upset to say that you and I _never_ did that." She began smoothing her dress out—a nervous habit.   
  
"BLAISE! WHAT'VE YOU DONE WITH HER?"   
  
"With whom?"   
  
"YOU BLOODY DAMN WELL KNOW WHO I'M TALKING ABOUT! WHERE'S GINNY? WHERE IS GINNY WEASLEY?"   
  
Blaise smirked and snapped her fingers and the wall before them began to turn around. Ginny was secured by her wrists, legs, waist, and neck on the other side of the wall. Her arms made a v-shape and were shackled above her and her legs would've hung limp had they not been shackled below her. A large metal band secured her waist and a smaller metal band went around her neck, generously leaving an ounce of space for breathing ease. The last two bands were probably there so the Cruciatus curse would be more painful since she wouldn't be able to arch her back if it were applied again, Draco noted.   
  
His thoughts were interrupted by Blaise's sudden giggling fit. Draco didn't even need to say anything. He simply glared.   
  
"You're so easy!" Blaise explained. "You lovesick bast—"   
  
Draco instinctively pointed his wand at Blaise's heart. He trembled slightly. "Avada— aaaaaaargh!"   
  
He never had a chance to finish the incantation. Someone had twisted his right arm behind his back and had a hold of his left arm in such a way that the wand bearing half a death curse was pointed at Draco's neck. "You were saying?" A voice hissed above him.   
  
Draco looked up. His father. Lucius Malfoy was the one restraining him—the one who held Draco's life in his hands. "Father." Draco stated, his way of admitting defeat.   
  
"Son," Lucius said in such a manner that it almost sounded like a question.   
  
Father and son stared at one another before Blaise interrupted them again. "Now Draco! You know perfectly well you're not supposed to use magic while you're so weak!" Draco grimaced at the tone Blaise used when saying 'weak'.   
  
Normally, Draco would try to hide his true feelings from his father. He was a rock in front of his father. Nothing would penetrate him. But Draco took a quick glance at Lucius Malfoy and shook his head internally. The man restraining him was no longer his real _father_. Father's did not do insane things like this to their sons. A father would never hurt his children—his only son.   
  
Through gritted teeth, Draco growled, "Let Ginny go! She's got nothing to do with this!"   
  
"She's obviously got something to do with you!" Blaise said, further annoying Draco by puckering her lips. "After a kiss like that, she's _definitely_ got a lot to do with you and therefore, a lot to do with _this_."   
  
"This?" Draco asked.   
  
"_The plan_," Lucius Malfoy hissed. "I reckon it's time you knew. We're reviving the Dark Lord."   
  
"Again," came a dull voice. It belonged to Tom Riddle. He wore his old Slytherin house attire and a nasty smirk that revealed two sharp vampire fangs. Riddle licked his lips and ran his hand through his hair. "Before you ask, yes—all of our plans are to revive the Dark Lord—me."   
  
"Talk about originality," Draco muttered.   
  
His father pulled up on his arm, causing him to wince and bite his tongue.   
  
"You are in no position to disgrace us, Draco." Lucius said.   
  
_Really, now? I hadn't the slightest idea! _ Is what Draco had wanted to say next, but he wanted to keep his right arm in working condition, so he held back his wisecracks just this once.   
  
There was an awkward silence. Everyone took turns glaring at Draco and the whole situation might've been comical if it were occurring in a movie, but it wasn't. This was real life.   
  
Draco suddenly sighed, causing everyone to look at him. "What do you need Gin—" He quickly corrected himself. "Why do you need the Weasley girl? She's not _our_ type."   
  
"Neither are you," Riddle answered. "You were, but are no longer."   
  
"I _was_?" Draco inquired, halfway confused. "What do you mean I'm no longer _your type_? It's not like I'm parading around in crimson and gold!"   
  
"Ha!" Blaise scoffed. "Not _in_, dear. _With_." She clarified by flinging her head towards the girl on the wall.   
  
"I haven't gone with her anywhere because I _wanted_ to," Draco said. "I also never wanted to be held prisoner in my own home." He added bitterly.   
  
"Nonetheless, the facts remain," his father added. "You had many opportunities to eliminate that Gryffindor scum, yet you went about your own business. You acted like it was perfectly acceptable for that kind of trash to walk alongside you, breathing the same air as you and accessing the same things as you. It is obvious that you do not care for the elite status that I and those around you represent. Therefore, your soul shall be disposed of."   
  
Draco stared up at his father in disbelief.   
  
"It will make me proud to have the Dark Lord himself walking the Earth once again in a body I created." Lucius grinned smugly.   
  
"You still haven't told me what part she plays in all this." Draco said, trying to change the subject somewhat.   
  
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Blaise giggled.   
  
Draco simply stared back.   
  
"Bait." She explained in one simple word.   
  
"Bait?" Draco inquired, furrowing his brows.   
  
"It worked rather nicely, too," Blaise said, licking her lips.   
  
Getting the gist of what Blaise was trying to say, Draco's temper flared. "How dare you use her to entice me? I will not stand this kind of mockery!"   
  
"And what do you plan to do?" Tom Riddle asked, smirking haughtily.   
  
"It wasn't mockery," Blaise added in quietly, a sudden change of tone evident in her voice. Everyone turned to look at her. "Sure, I transfigured into her for a short while, but I did utter her true feelings." Draco stared at her, silent confusion flooding his face. "Somewhere deep within her heart, she really does love you." Blaise cast her eyes away from Draco. She almost looked sad for a split second, but she quickly wiped all emotion off her face.   
  
"Well, isn't that sweet?" Riddle interrupted malignantly. "Lucius, if you'll please?"   
  
"It would be my pleasure," Mr. Malfoy said. He let go of Draco's left arm and snapped his fingers. Draco blinked and when he opened his eyes again, he saw Ginny's motionless form hanging on the wall across from him. He looked at his arms and they were shackled! He tried to look at his waist and legs, but the metal ring across his neck prevented him from doing so. He presumed he was in the same position as Ginny.   
  
Draco looked down and everyone was leaving the room, apparently quite proud of what they'd done to him.   
  
"WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?" Draco hollered, suddenly. "WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH _US_?" He suddenly noticed he was sweating excessively. Then again, it would've been strange if he felt comfortable in the position he was in.   
  
The group led by Riddle froze and his father was the first to turn around. "It really doesn't matter what you want to know right now. _You_ won't exist anymore soon." He thought for a second and added, "Neither will she." Lucius nodded in Ginny's direction. "All your questions will be answered soon enough, I suppose. But for now, I recommend you get some rest!"   
  
"Even though you'll be _resting_ for a while after _the plan_ is executed." Riddle added in with a guffaw.   
  
With that, they proceeded in leaving through the only door to the room. Blaise was the last to leave, and as Draco glared at the retreating group, he noted a foreign glint in her eyes when she looked at him one last time. He'd never seen it there before, but even as the door vanished as Blaise stepped over its threshold, it was like the look in Blaise's eyes remained in the room.   
  
Draco stared at the ground in silence for a while. He thought about many things. He thought about how his father abandoned him. He thought about what might happen to him. He wondered where his mother was at a time like this and if she was alright. He hadn't heard from her since school had started that year. He even wondered what Harry Potter was doing. Then he thought about all the trivial things he'd ever wished for or wanted. He thought about how he'd always wished with all his might to one-day beat Harry Potter at Quidditch. He thought about all the stupid pranks he had played on Harry and his friends and then about all the stupider pranks that ended up backfiring. If he could, he would've kicked himself now. None of that stuff mattered now. Nothing in his life mattered—   
  
He looked up. Ginny had begun to stir. Seconds later, she opened her eyes and frantically looked around. He didn't say anything. He thought it would be best to let her get the panic out of her system naturally. Finally, she looked across the room and into Draco's eyes. And with a sharp intake of breath, Draco saw something.   
  
Blaise's eyes.   
  
**Author's Note:** Oh my goodness! *falls over* I just stubbed my toe! >_that much! Yeah… so I tried to get the whole D/G thing rolling, but… er… yeah… maybe that'll kinda pick up…. soon… *twiddling thumbs* Oh yeah! R/Hr kinda started! *hides from Erika* 'Kay! That's all! Man! My _author's note_ section thingers are getting retardeder and retardeder! *giggles* Sorry! ^^;   
  
**Kudos and M&Ms (Credits):** I was inspired by Linkin Park's _Papercut_ whilst writing Draco's dream sequence. So all that stuff about having a 'face beneath your skin' and stuff are from that song. Also, when Blaise was doing all that 'fake' lovey-dovey stuff, a lot of her lines came from Akcent's _Soulmate_. It's a pretty song… *smiles*   
  
**Juse the facts:** The spell Ginny uses: _Collapsoendium Revioso_ does not exist (just in case that threw anyone for a loop). I just needed a nifty spell… so I made it up. Lameness on my part, I know, but hey, something like it might exist! So there. *sweatdrop*   
  
**Chapter 13:** Draco/Ginny rocks, doesn't it? Mmf. Too bad not much of the D/G action is in the next chapter though! You'll basically be finding out what's up with all the other characters. It's kinda like a refresher so you're not totally surprised and stuff when random characters seem to pop up out of nowhere. :) Er, yay?   
  
Yay! Reviews, reviews, reviews! Thanks to **Goldengirl2**, **Lily_Among_the_Thorns_89**, **Eiko**, **Maureen**, and **Jonah** for reviewing that last chapter! Yall're the bomb-diggity! ^_~ Keep it up! 


	13. Loneliness and Confusion

**Chapter 13: Loneliness and Confusion**   
  
Alone. Again.   
  
Harry had opened his eyes to discover the entire Gryffindor boys' room empty. Perhaps he had slept in again?   
  
No.   
  
He remembered being transported back to the boys' room with Ron and Hermione, yet the two he'd come with were no where to be seen.   
  
_Perhaps they're sitting in the common room. They probably didn't want to wake me._   
  
Harry tried to run a comb through his hair and when that battle proved fruitless once again, he stepped out of the dormitory and into the common room. Uncle Vernon's old socks didn't help keep out the biting cold of the floor beneath his feet.   
  
He ambled down the semicircle steps and when he'd made it to the bottom, he crossed his arms over his chest and surveyed the common room. The fire was jigging, throwing spooky shadows all over the otherwise empty room.   
  
Suddenly, Harry heard a sound. He looked towards the oversized loveseat facing the fireplace. Maybe Ron and Hermione were sitting there. He slowly made his way there and when he peered over the cushions, to his dismay, his spirit dropped and he could've kicked himself then for having had such false hope.   
  
The loveseat was empty.   
  
And he was alone. Again.   
  


* * *

  
  
"Could you please do me a favor and die quicker so all the good air isn't wasted on you?"   
  
Snape was bitter. But why wouldn't he be? He had been shrunken and placed inside a tiny bottle atop a desk in his own Potions classroom. The garlicky scent of the room was driving him insane. But it was nothing compared to the miniature blubbering half-giant sitting at the other end of the overturned bottle.   
  
"But it's so sad!" Hagrid wailed.   
  
"My brain established that a while ago, Rubeus, so please _shut your mouth_!" Snape yelled the last part.   
  
Hagrid used his oversized fingers to erase any signs of tears from his face. "But little Ginny—" Hagrid began saying before he burst into tears once again. Snape rolled his eyes.   
  
Though the noises made from outside the bottle were barely audible, they'd watched everything that had happened. Snape had even stared—eyes and mouth wide open, when Draco snogged a transforming Blaise Zabini. And of course, they'd figured out by now that Snape's old crowd was completely evil and formulating yet another plan to resurrect You-Know-Who. _So predictable_, Snape had thought to himself when that epiphany settled in.   
  
And even though he wasn't showing it like Hagrid, Snape was very worried about Draco and Ginny's well being. Being shackled to the wall wasn't anything too great—especially in Malfoy Manor. Snape could still remember when he used to visit Malfoy Manor as an honored guest and would spot the occasional sets of shackles on the walls—occupied by decaying bones. The memories still made him shudder and the Dark Mark on his arm burn.   
  
Snape suddenly sat down. He'd begun sweating a while back. It was because he was nervous, or because Hagrid was using up too much air. He thought now. Ginny Weasley had regained consciousness just a minute ago, so she was still weak from the Cruciatus Curse she'd received. And Draco… Snape could tell he wasn't giving his best. _He should be more rowdy and obnoxious_, Snape thought to himself. Ultimately, neither child was behaving normally, not that he expected them to in a situation like this.   
  
"OH GINNY!!!" Hagrid suddenly wailed.   
  
"What _is_ it?" Snape asked finally.   
  
"She… she…"   
  
Snape turned his head, slightly jutting his ear out, encouraging Hagrid to say whatever it was he was trying to say.   
  
"She might love Draco Malfoy!" He finally yelled out as he went into another fit of wailing and sobbing.   
  
Snape screwed up his face. "You… retard!" Snape finally said, unable to find another word to fit the occasion. "Who cares? Get off that fat ass of yours and help me push this bottle. We might be able to roll this off the table and get out."   
  
Hagrid recomposed himself enough to reply back to Snape's suggestion. "It's a long fall, Professor. We'll be lucky to make it to the bottom uninjured."   
  
Snape bit his bottom lip, half upset that his plan wasn't going to work and half upset that it was Rubeus Hagrid that had made him realize that such a stupid flaw existed within his plan.   
  
And suddenly, Hagrid said, "Why can't we just go out through here?"   
  
Snape turned to discover Hagrid had quite effortlessly pushed the cork off the opening of the bottle. He could only stare as Hagrid gave him the biggest grin he could manage, and being a half-giant, that was pretty big.   
  


* * *

  
  
"Barton, you really don't need to go through all this trouble for _me_," Dumbledore said. "By the way, could you scratch my nose? It's been itching for a while."   
  
At the moment, Dumbledore sat in a chair in the center of his office whilst Barty Crouch walked in circles around him. Of course Crouch wasn't walking in circles like an idiot—he was tying the old headmaster to the chair with a length of rope.   
  
"That's where you're _wrong_, professor," Barty snarled, ignoring the headmaster's request. "After all the times you overlooked me, all the times you laughed behind my back, all the times you let all the bigger and older kids pick on me, all the times you made sure Professor Trelawney sat next to me, all the times you didn't give me a chance—"   
  
"I never did any of those things," Dumbledore interrupted, tilting his head.   
  
This comment made Crouch freeze in his tracks. He suddenly began breathing very hard. His fists clenched the rope between his fingers and without warning, he threw the rope down onto the floor, stomping his foot on it as he did so.   
  
"YOU _DID_ DO THOSE THINGS!" He yelled.   
  
"Er… no, I really must insist in saying that I did not," Dumbledore said, still a bit unsure of what Crouch was trying to do.   
  
"Heh, you just don't know what to say! You thought I was dead!" Barty said, a mad look swirling in his eyes. "But remember this, Dumbledore! You can _never_ rid yourself of Barty Crouch!" He huffed a bit as he continued tying the headmaster to the chair.   
  
And suddenly, Dumbledore wiggled his ears. He could sense Severus Snape and Rubeus Hagrid within the premises. Their auras had come without warning and Dumbledore knew instantly they were in the Manor as well.   
  
At the moment, Crouch was still muttering about how sorry Dumbledore would be for whatever it was that the headmaster had done. Dumbledore interrupted him. "I'm terribly sorry, Barton, but I need to cut our conversation short. Something's suddenly come up, but a rain check sounds good to me, eh?" With that, the old man winked and vanished, a faint pop being the only proof of his ever being in the room, and even that sound was gone within an instant.   
  
Crouch's mouth hung open for a minute or two and when the fact that the headmaster had tricked him again sunk in, he was fuming.   
  


* * *

  
  
"W-w-weas—Ginny, is that you?" A startled Draco demanded.   
  
Ginny had just woken up after the Cruciatus curse and even though being shackled to a wall kept her straight up, she felt wobbly and dizzy nonetheless. She focused her eyes on Draco's lanky form sprawled against the wall opposite her in the same fashion as her body. After closer inspection of Draco, she furrowed her brows. Why did he look so nervous and uptight?   
  
"Are you there?" Draco called out, this time a little less timidly.   
  
"I can't exactly go anywhere," Ginny trailed off.   
  
"You're Ginny Weasley?"   
  
"Er… yes…" Ginny said as she raised her eyebrows.   
  
"Do you know who I am?" Draco continued with the interrogation.   
  
"Yea—" Ginny had begun to answer.   
  
However, she was cut off by Draco's moan, which had soon mutated into a groan and then a despaired yell.   
  
"Draco?" Ginny cried out as loud as she could. "Draco! What's wrong, Draco!"   
  
"AAAAAAAARRRGH!" He roared. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'DO I NOT BLEED?'"   
  
"Draco! I didn't ask you anything!" Ginny shouted. "Snap out of it, Draco! C'mon! Malfoy!"   
  
Draco suddenly went deathly still and right before Ginny was sure he'd been frozen, Draco blinked and hysterically looked around the room. "Where am I?" He asked desperately, eyeing his shackles and bands as if for the first time. "Why am I here?" His eyes dodged from spot to spot about the room until his gaze finally rested on Ginny.   
  
With a sudden intake of breath, he said in a trembling voice, "_You_ did this to me."   
  
Ginny's mouth fell open accompanied with an outcry of denial. "I didn't do this to you! You've been there since I woke up! If anything, _you_ did this to _me_!"   
  
"Lies. They're all lies. I mustn't be deceived. Let me go now, I say! Where's Rain?"   
  
"What?"   
  
"Don't play innocent with me. I demand to know where Rain is!"   
  
_He's gone insane_, Ginny thought to herself. Had Blaise used the Cruciatus curse on Draco too? She remembered that Neville's parents were in a special wing at the insane asylum after Voldemort applied the Cruciatus curse on them so many times.   
  
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAIN!" Draco screamed at the top of his lungs. He arched his back now and it looked as though the metal band around his neck was choking him, but his body seemed to take no notice. He continued screaming for Rain and Ginny looked on in horror.   
  
And in the middle of all this screaming, Blaise Zabini silently walked into the room.   
  


* * *

  
  
Harry now sat by himself in the deserted Gryffindor common room. Shadows from the fire licked his face and though he was the only thing in the room the fire could light up, the features of his countenance were anything but bright.   
  
It had been a couple hours since he'd discovered Ron and Hermione had left him alone. The reason _why_ they left him had been plaguing him for the past two hours. He remembered that wherever he went, his two best friends would always accompany him. He remembered his adventures, the most dangerous ones consequentially occurring at the ends of his Hogwarts terms and how his buddies would always come through for him. Hermione and Ron. Ron and Hermione. They were his light, his strength—they were everything to him, really. And now they'd left him by choice.   
  
Though he didn't know all the facts, this simple fact had taken his heart and begun squeezing it. He was hurting far worse than he'd ever hurt before. This felt worse than when his scar burned, or when Voldemort had applied the Cruciatus curse on him or when he discovered a friend might've murdered his parents. If someone were to peel all his skin off and apply rubbing alcohol to his open wounds and then apply the Cruciatus curse on him and then chop him up, feed him to wild dogs, make the dogs regurgitate all his pieces and glue him back together and repeat the process ten billion times—that wouldn't feel as bad as he felt now. But at least it would take his mind off the present matter.   
  
He acted like a normal teenager when he went to his classes and met other people, but in reality, he knew it, and so did Hermione and Ron—he was _nothing_ without his friends.   
  
And now he sat in front of the fire. He didn't know what time it was, but he was glad no one else was in the common room. He had been wearing the same clothes for about two days now. He wore an emerald green T-shirt and swamp green cargo pants with black tennis shoes. He remembered how Ron used to hate the green combination but Hermione used to comment on how the combination complimented his eyes. He heaved an anguished sigh and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a tiny object, wrapped in crinkled paper and tied with worn string.   
  
He'd gone through rough patches before and he remembered that there was always only one person that could make him better. One person that would always pick up his pieces and put him back together. One person who'd always have a shoulder for him to cry on and one person that would always lead him correctly.   
  
Harry carefully unwrapped the package, an activity he found himself doing quite often now, and in his hands lay a mirror. He knew that only two of this mirror existed. He owned one of them and the other was owned by—   
  
"Sirius," Harry whispered. A teardrop promptly rolled down his cheek and dropped onto the mirror's surface. The mirror swallowed the tear, but nothing else happened—Harry was still staring at his own reflection.   
  
Harry gripped the mirror hard, trying to silently rid himself of his anger, frustration, and confusion. Not being able to hold it in anymore, he grabbed the bottle of Floo powder on the table next to him and hurtled it into the fire.   
  
"SIRIUS!" He bellowed as the orange flames turned into large emerald flames. "AAAAAAAAAARGH! SIRIUS, WHERE ARE YOU?" He screamed as loudly as he possibly could. Out of breath, he inhaled and exhaled in the silence of his surroundings. "Why did you have to leave me, too?" He whimpered.   
  
And the fire suddenly flickered.   
  
Harry choked on air and held his breath. The flames had caught the carpet, but within the depths of the monstrous emerald flames, he saw him…   
  
"Sirius?" Harry finally breathed, bewildered.   
  
The figure in the flames looked around for a second as if he was confused as to where he was and when he finally looked at Harry's surprised face, he scratched his head and smirked.   
  
Harry shivered and began feeling slightly dizzy and light-headed, but he had to stay upright. Before him—right in front of him was his godfather—Sirius! It was_ his_ Sirius Black!   
  


* * *

  
  
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIN!" Draco continued screaming for the mistress from his dreams. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIII—"   
  
"Shut _up_!" Blaise finally yelled, making her presence known. And Draco did.   
  
Both Draco and Ginny turned to look at Blaise. The crazed look in Draco's eyes still remained.   
  
"Mmm… I believe the transformation is nearly complete." Blaise smiled.   
  
"Trans— you mean he's going to become a full vampire?" Ginny asked aghast.   
  
"Well, duh! You've been hanging around for a while, Weasley," Blaise laughed at her pun. "You really haven't figured out what we're doing?"   
  
"You're reviving You-Know-Who—"   
  
"Voldemort?" Blaise suggested.   
  
Ginny shuddered noticably at the mention of His name, but nodded. "Yes, you're reviving him."   
  
"Wow, you're smart. Just about ever infant in England knows that's what we do! For Slytherin's sake, some mad scheme related to us is published in the Prophet every other day!"   
  
Ginny was about to say something, but she heard a weird noise. She looked across from her and Draco was breathing heavy, raspy breaths. His head was pointed down toward the ground, his long strands of platinum curtaining his face away from view. And suddenly, Draco's head flicked up and he looked straight at Ginny. This caused Ginny to do a mixed gasp and scream. What was wrong with him?   
  
Draco's eyes were bloodshot and his teeth were fangs now. He was foaming at the mouth and his pale skin was changing into a sick shade of poison green. From the corner of her eye, Ginny noticed that his fingernails were long claws now and seconds later, he had pulled himself free of the shackles!   
  
"Draco!" Ginny screamed instinctively.   
  
And Draco turned to look at her. He stared hungrily at her for a few seconds before arching his back and roaring as though something was paining him inside. "RAAAAAAAAAAIN!!" He began again. And this time, he slowly walked towards Ginny.   
  
"HE'S _ALMOST_ A VAMPIRE NOW!" Blaise shouted to Ginny over the racket Draco was causing. "THIS PART SURE IS ANNOYING THOUGH, HUH?" She grinned.   
  
Ginny stared flabbergasted at Blaise. Her mouth had literally fallen open.   
  
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAII—" Draco began screaming again when—   
  
"Bloody damn hell! Stifle yourself!" And with that, Blaise took aim and shot her wand straight at Draco. During the wand's airtime, it slowly converted itself into a knife and instantly, Ginny realized where it was headed to.   
  
"DRACO!!!!!!!!" Ginny screamed. She futiley tugged at the chains in hopes of being able to do something to save Draco, but then—   
  
_BAM_.   
  
The knife had made contact with Draco's chest and it had flown through the air with such velocity that the knife had come out on the other side of Draco and was finally stopped by the wall on the other side of the room. On contact, Draco's eyes flew open. He coughed up blood and began to stagger…   
  
**Author's Note:** That was anything but a blunt ending to a chapter, eh? *smiles and gets pummeled for the stupid joke* But yeah, yet another cliffhanger! Short chapter, too. But uh… nothing else to say. Sorry, I'm kinda not in a good mood at the moment (hence my desire to write), so yeah, I don't have anything interesting to say.   
  
**Chapter 14:** We'll find out what happens to Draco/Ginny now and what happens with Harry and Sirius. Some shady stuff from chapter 12 will also be cleared up. And we'll probably find out other stuff that I decide to stick in the next chapter between now and when I release it. :3   
  
Thanks to **Lily Among the Thorns-89**, **Maureen**, **Eiko**, **Jonah**, **Kashew**, **da-drama-queen**, and **grace** for reviewing! Much love! 


	14. Life and Death

**Chapter 14: Life and Death**   
  
The knife had made contact with Draco's chest and it had flown through the air with such velocity that the knife had come out on the other side of Draco and was finally stopped by the wall on the other side of the room. On contact, Draco's eyes flew open. He coughed up blood and began to stagger. He teetered dangerously on his heels and finally landed noiselessly on the floor.   
  
"DRACO!" Ginny sobbed loudly. Her face was glimmering with tears and she felt as if she'd also been dealt the deadly blow from Blaise's knife. Her whole body ached with pain—pain for Draco and pain for herself.   
  
Images flashed behind Ginny's closed eyelids. She remembered the first time she'd ever spoken to Draco Malfoy—that time in Flourish and Blotts. She remembered how he'd simply scoffed when she'd made it out of the Chamber of Secrets alive her first year at Hogwarts. She remembered how he used to guffaw and smirk and sneer, the way he'd cross his arms and arch an eyebrow and pull pranks on her fellow peers. She remembered his piercing gaze, one that wasn't easy to forget, and she also remembered the hollow look his cloudy gray eyes would hold after being beaten by Harry in Quidditch. She remembered the comical scene every Valentine's, Pansy Parkinson sending hoards of enchanted cupids Draco's way. She remembered his yells of anguish that first time she'd placed the Bat Bogey Hex on him and she remembered how he'd gripped her hard when he'd been working for Umbridge. Ginny remembered the feel of his smooth, delicate fingers around her waist then, the way he took care not to invade her personal space when he'd held her captive. And lastly she remembered how only hours ago he'd tied her hair back with an enchanted rubber band. His behavior had been indifferent then, but the gentleness of his movements had surprised her. It had been obvious to her then that his bully-like behavior had been a façade, the reason for the façade remaining unknown to her, but that instant, she knew he was a gentle creature.   
  
Draco Malfoy had a heart and was a real—a _normal_ human being.   
  
But now Ginny opened her eyes and looked at the spot on the floor where the young man lay, encircled by his own blood. He was still alive, and he was motionless except for the occasional fluttering of his eyelids. His sweaty platinum hair lay damp and stuck to his forehead. He coughed again and more blood spewed out of his mouth.   
  
Ginny gave another loud sob at this and tried to move her right arm to reach out to the dying boy.   
  
Blaise quietly looked up at the wall and observed Ginny's movements. Then she walked over to Draco, knelt down on one knee and used two fingers to close Draco's eyes, and they stayed that way.   
  
A new stream of tears began flowing down Ginny's face and she felt her hair suddenly fall against her cheeks.   
  
Draco's enchanted rubber band had changed back into a pin. The spell had faded away.   
  
She tried to stop herself from thinking it, but it couldn't be helped.   
  
_Draco Malfoy is dead,_ Ginny heard echoing in her head.   
  


* * *

  
  
The bright emerald flames grew larger and began to reach out of the Gryffindor Tower fireplace toward Harry. Suddenly out of breath, the boy timidly crawled toward the hearth. "Sirius?" He whispered hoarsely. The image of his godfather within the flames grew ever clearer.   
  
Harry scrambled to the fireplace now, ignoring the growing heat from the blazing fire. "Sirius!" He said in a steadier voice than before. "Oh, God! Sirius, is that really you?"   
  
His godfather grinned and nodded his head.   
  
The tears that spilled out of Harry's eyes just then were completely involuntary. He was tempted to throw himself into the fire, which had begun to lick the carpet around him, but he didn't know where Sirius was…but he didn't care now. Sirius was here and he could talk to Sirius. Here and now.   
  
"Oh, Sirius! I knew you weren't finished! I swear I would've come after you back then in the Department of Mysteries, but you _must_ understand, I just _couldn't_!"   
  
The image of Sirius formed by the frolicking flames now lowered his head, his long, shaggy hair shading his eyes. He began to fade out of the fire and Harry realized this.   
  
"No! Sirius, don't go! Please! There's so much I want to tell you! You've missed so much!"   
  
Black shook his head and began turning away as he faded.   
  
Harry didn't know how exactly he had contacted his godfather, but the fact was, he had, and it wasn't likely that he'd get another chance like this again.   
  
His palms had formed blisters where they'd touched the spewed ashes from the fire. His cheeks were dry and itchy from the intense heat and he was sweaty. He found it odd how he felt so miserable yet so immensely happy all at once. But when he looked at the fading form of his godfather, he knew the sudden happiness he felt would immediately leave him the moment Sirius had disappeared from the hearth.   
  
"Sirius!" Harry called desperately. "At least tell me where you are!"   
  
Sirius Black turned his head slightly to look at Harry, and then looked away again, almost completely transparent.   
  
"No!" Harry shook his head! "I won't lose you again, Sirius!"   
  
Without thought, Harry shut his eyes tightly, grit his teeth, and lunged into the flames, ready to follow Sirius Black to the depths of the Earth—literally.   
  


* * *

  
  
"Goodness!" Blaise made a face, staring at Draco Malfoy's motionless form. "Why did he want it to _rain_ so much?"   
  
Ginny gawked. "You heartless bitch!" She sobbed loudly. "You… you just _killed_ him for no reason at all!"   
  
"And you think I haven't done something like that before?" Blaise laughed.   
  
Ginny mouthed wordlessly. How could she make this animal understand? "You killed one of your own! You two went to school together! You two—"   
  
"His screaming was getting _totally_ annoying," Blaise interrupted, rolling her eyes and now twirling a lock of hair between her thumb and index finger. "And plus, he isn't part of us anymore. He's been banished."   
  
Ginny could only stare.   
  
"What?" Blaise said in a mock-innocent tone. "It's not like you're going to miss him or something. I mean, you and yours aren't exactly buddy-buddy with him. So in reality, it's like he never existed at all… since no one's going to miss him and all." Blaise giggled.   
  
"You're wrong, Blaise. Draco Malfoy _did_ exist. He was one of the most tenderhearted people I'd ever known. Sure, he liked to play rotten tricks on my friends and me, but even if of all people _you_ had died, he would probably be the only person who would pay any sort of tribute to your existence." Ginny said scathingly. "And it's not even like you'd deserve _that_."   
  
Blaise had stopped giggling and now glared at the girl hanging on the wall.   
  
"Very well," She finally said. Blaise snapped her fingers and the chains and shackles holding Ginny Weasley to the wall disappeared, causing her to unexpectedly fall to the floor. "Time to get rid of the evidence," Zabini said, eyeing Ginny with disgust.   
  
Ginny Weasley looked up at her captor from her position on the floor. Both her knees and palms had minor abrasions from landing so hard on the rough floor of the room, but that was all as far as injuries were concerned. She longingly eyed Draco's cold form across the room as Blaise began walking toward her.   
  
_I can't go down like this,_ she thought frantically.   
  
Blaise had reached Ginny now. "Get up," she ordered.   
  
The youngest Weasley narrowed her eyes, ground her teeth, clenched her fists, and glared up at Zabini.   
  
"Get up!" Blaise yelled.   
  
At that moment, Ginny _did_ get up, but when she did, she made a mad dash to where Draco was lying. Next to Draco's body was his wand, lying in the middle of a puddle of his blood. Ginny snatched it into her hands, splashing the red blood over her clothes and Draco's, and prepared to duel.   
  
Straddle-legged to keep her balance, slightly angled so her wand hand was in front of her, and on her toes so she could move quickly if she needed to, Ginny glared at Blaise and looked as though she was smirking. "You'll have to kill me before you can take me."   
  
Blaise growled. "Consider it done."   
  


* * *

  
  
Harry had initially decided to keep his eyes and mouth closed when he'd jumped into the fire after his godfather, but right before he'd jumped into the tempting flames of the Gryffindor Tower hearth, he inhaled a lung-full of ashes and burning embers.   
  
So now he was going who-knows-where with his supposedly dead godfather—coughing and hacking the whole way.   
  
He had flung his arms over his face instinctively. Sparks from around him nicked his arms and caused him to flinch, but eventually he lowered his arms and gingerly opened his eyes when he realized this ride through the chimney was taking a bit longer than usual. Everything around him was spinning in a blur of colors—that was normal, but he felt as though he was standing still. As though time and space had stopped. And just before he began to panic, he heard voices.   
  
"Harry!"   
  
Was that Hermione?   
  
"Bloody hell, _Harry_!"   
  
Ron?   
  
How could Hermione and Ron be anywhere near the grate?   
  
And then it felt as though time had decided speed up to double-time after standing still for so long. Harry felt himself falling rapidly. He tried to look down to see where he might land, but he couldn't see the ground. The boy tried to grab hold of something—anything, but it's quite difficult to grab hold of open air. Then he felt something, or someone, firmly grab his left arm and he was being pulled upwards. He wasn't falling anymore, that was true, and being pulled overhead seemed better than falling at that particular moment, but it was still a very confusing situation.   
  
An instant later, Harry was sprawled across a wooden floor in front of someone's fireplace and he heard anguished cries of pain from what sounded like Ron's voice. Harry got on his hands and knees and began coughing up all the ashes he'd swallowed during his journey through the grate. After he was sure of his breathing, Harry turned around and gaped at what he saw.   
  
The room he was in had so much emerald green covering its walls that everything and everyone in the room was slightly tinted the same color. Everything in the room had at least some kind of serpent on it—even the people. If it wasn't already obvious whose home he was in, Harry found Lucius Malfoy and Tom Riddle standing off to the side of the fireplace. Also on the floor like him, he saw Hermione comforting Ron, who was hugging his left arm and maybe even…crying?   
  
Harry stared. "Ron?"   
  
"Hey," Ron gasped.   
  
And then Harry gawked at Hermione. She seemed not to realize they were in some sort of Slytherin mansion! She grabbed Ron's right shoulder and whirled him around. "Staring at your hand isn't going to make it any better!" Hermione yelled. She looked so frustrated that even her hair had begun to frizz out, but she looked worried, too. "Give it here, let me have a look at it."   
  
"Get away!" Ron moaned.   
  
"Ron!" Hermione yelled, trying to get around his hunched over shoulders. "Ron, stop being a child—Ron!" Then Hermione half fell on top of Ron and was now sitting on his stomach. She was breathing heavily, but quickly recollected herself and grabbed Ron's left arm.   
  
What Harry saw next made his stomach lurch. It looked as though Ron didn't have any skin on his left hand. His fingers, palm, and part of his wrist were smothered in his own blood. His best friend was gritting his teeth to try and suppress some of the pain, but Harry could see Ron's glimmering cheeks.   
  
Harry mouthed wordlessly then croaked. "Ron, what happened?"   
  
Then Hermione suddenly ran her fingers through her hair and whirled around. "The idiot stuck his _arm_ into the fireplace to pull you out!" She glared at Ron. "You're lucky your whole arm isn't a bloody mess!" She whacked his right shoulder with her palm.   
  
"We couldn't just _leave_ him there if that's what you were thinking!" Ron rebutted rather bitterly.   
  
Harry furrowed his brows. "The fireplace? But when did—how did you find me in the fireplace?"   
  
Though no one had really been saying anything, any and all noises in the room were suddenly smothered. Even Ron had stifled his whimpers and with the exception of a slight intake of breath, Hermione's griping had ceased as well.   
  
Lucius Malfoy smirked. "Ignorant boy. Meet your beloved Sirius Black."   
  
Mr. Malfoy and Tom Riddle had been standing next to one another and when they moved apart, Harry saw the figure of his godfather between them.   
  
"Sirius!" Harry gasped, running toward him.   
  
"Harry, don't!" Hermione suddenly said in a distressed voice.   
  
_Don't?_ Harry thought. His godfather stood there before him in person! Why shouldn't he run up to him?   
  
And before Harry's thoughts had finished forming, Sirius' form began to shrink and in no time at all, he had run into the short, stubby arms of Kreacher the house elf.   
  
Harry shouted in alarm and jumped out of the house elf's arms. He was suddenly short of breath and he felt his chest tighten. He didn't know if he should cry or strangle Kreacher to death.   
  
Alas, emotion overtook him. It always did. "YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SCUM!" Harry's heart was racing now and his breathing was unsteady and loud. He couldn't keep his eyes focused on just one place in the room, so his pupils danced about his eye-sockets. He'd broken out in a cold sweat and didn't know what to do with himself. His hands formed into fists and before he knew it, he found himself charging toward the old house elf.   
  
Harry swung back his right arm and thrust it violently through the air, aiming for Kreacher's large, obtrusive nose, but without warning, Kreacher's sagging form simply disappeared a mere tenth of a second before Harry was about to make contact with his face. Instead, Harry punched the floor and blood from his knuckles stained the gray-marble floor.   
  
"Good boy," Harry heard Lucius say.   
  
Harry looked up and saw Kreacher was now standing next to Mr. Malfoy. Kreacher looked just as confused to be there as Harry was to see him there.   
  
Tom Riddle shrugged. "_That_ didn't really go according to plan."   
  
"Ah, well," Lucius Malfoy added casually. "It was a mere bonus round."   
  
Harry finally found his tongue again. "Bonus round? What are you talking about?" He hollered, utterly confused.   
  
"You surely must be familiar with it all. It was just another attempt at your life, no big deal," Riddle mused.   
  
"But this time we weren't really supposed to go after _your_ life. We just got bored so we thought we'd try a little something. Alas, your precious Mr. Weasley believes _he_ is as flammable as his hair," Malfoy looked over at Ron, "and his ears may be, so you live for yet another day."   
  
"How nice." Riddle said, raising both his eyebrows.   
  
Harry was annoyed now. For one, Riddle and Malfoy were taking turns speaking as Fred and George might and that always resulted in his getting dizzy and disconcerted.   
  
Before anyone could say anything else, Lucius took his turn in speech. "We've no use for you now,"   
  
"Not _all_ of you," Riddle added thoughtfully.   
  
"Oh, yes, I almost forgot," Lucius nodded. "If you'd be so kind then, Tom, please show our guests," his lips slowly curled upward, "to their rooms."   
  
Though they knew their lives were safe for the moment, the trio also knew of the Malfoy methods of torture and punishment, so the news of being sent somewhere alone caused the three sets of eyes to widen with horror.   
  


* * *

  
  
Ginny and Blaise simply stood where they were. It was a stare-down.   
  
"Go on," Blaise nodded.   
  
Ginny made a face.   
  
"You start," Blaise clarified, pursing her lips together and lifting her eyebrows a bit too leisurely.   
  
The enemy was _asking_ her to attack first. That was a good thing, right?   
  
Ginny quickly thought of all the spells fresh in her mind. Classes at Hogwarts had never taught any real harmful spells. Of course, she knew about the unforgivable curses, but seeing how she didn't know how to use them, they weren't an option and now wasn't really a good time to try one of them out for the first time. Though she hated Blaise now, Ginny did not wish to kill an actual human being…though Blaise was more of a heathen. But she simply couldn't _kill_ someone—not on purpose, anyway. It wasn't right.   
  
Ginny finally decided a simple stunning spell would do. She just needed Blaise out of the way so she could decide what to do afterward in peace.   
  
The youngest Weasley narrowed her eyes and carefully took aim. Her wand arm swooped upward and swiftly came down to strike an invisible place in the air. "Petrificus totalus!"   
  
Ginny waited to see Blaise hit the floor, or at least dodge the spell, but nothing happened. Her eyes widened with horror. She turned the wand around and looked into it as though peering into the barrel of a gun—stressful situations really _do_ bring on stupid actions.   
  
Blaise pulled a hand-fan out of the air and began to fan herself whilst suppressing a fake yawn. "Done yet?" She smiled.   
  
Ginny tried to say something. She wasn't exactly sure _what_ she was trying to say, but at the moment she felt if any words escaped from her lips, they'd be her last.   
  
"What's wrong? Is that what you're wanting to say?" Blaise nodded at Ginny. "Here it is, then—simple and plain. Draco's dead. He doesn't exist in this world anymore and neither does his magic. Or the usefulness of his wand."   
  
Ginny gasped and swallowed hard at the mentioning of Draco's name.   
  
"But how about this?" Blaise tossed her wand in the air and just before it returned to her hand, it disappeared. "We'll settle this with a _real_ fight. Winner take all."   
  
Ginny finally found her voice. "As if there's anything left to take."   
  
"Oh? Scared, Weasley?"   
  
"_Don't_ call me Weasley." Ginny growled. "Bring it on."   
  
She stuffed Draco's wand in her back pocket and when she looked up, Blaise was already running at her. Ginny placed all her weight on her heels right before her offender jumped at her.   
  
Both of Blaise's arms had made contact with Ginny's shoulders. Ginny was surprised and caught off-guard by Blaise's stealthy and flowing cat-like motions.   
  
The girls were rolling on the floor now. The fall had knocked the breath out of Ginny, but this was a life or death situation—she could take it.   
  
As they continued tumbling on the floor, kicking, punching, biting, and scratching one another, Blaise finally shifted her weight in the opposite way. Having a larger frame than Ginny's, she was able to gain control of Ginny's body and balance and Zabini now sat on Ginny's stomach. Ginny wiggled around and trying to find some sort of advantage in her position, but her right arm was pinned against the wall.   
  
Ginny's eyes widened as she watched Blaise's fist come closer and closer to her face until it finally hit her, at which point she felt an explosion of pain on the left side of her head. Ginny cried out, but that was stifled with Zabini's next hit. Ginny coughed a bit and felt her tongue feel a mixture of blood and saliva along the walls of her mouth. Blaise had hit the right side of her bottom lip, and her teeth had cut into her lips. But she was ready for the next punch. Just as Blaise's hand came near the left side of her face again, Ginny turned her head so Blaise's arm hit the rough floor where her head used to be. She took this chance to use her available left hand to bury all five of her nails into the flesh of Blaise's face. As soon as her enemy shrieked, Ginny took the chance to slightly squirm out from underneath Blaise and with both hands free now, she clawed at Blaise's face until her whole body was out from under Blaise, at which point, using the wall for support, she kicked Blaise hard in the stomach.   
  
Ginny scrambled back onto her feet. She had originally wanted to run at Blaise right then when she had the chance, but the blows to her head suddenly began to pulsate as soon as she'd gotten to her feet. She stood still for what seemed like only a couple of seconds when she was knocked off her feet once again. Ginny hit the wall and struggled to get up again, but Blaise kicked her in the stomach and the Weasley girl stayed down.   
  
Blaise snapped her fingers and her wand materialized in her hand. "I don't think I'm liking how this fight is going." She was breathing hard. "See you in the after-life, _fool_." Blaise kicked Ginny's stomach again as she said fool.   
  
Ginny was dizzy now and gasping for air. Try as she might, she could not find the strength to get up. She felt drained and cursed at herself for being so weak.   
  
She had just started to catch her breath again, though she was actually breathing quite hard, when she heard Blaise's voice one more time.   
  
"AVADA—!"   
  
**Author's Note:** I suck, I know… yet another stupid cliffhanger! But at least I got another chapter up (finally!), right? So let's have a recap: Draco's dead, the trio are_ feeling_ dead and Ginny's about to be dead. *gets pummeled* And yall thought this was a Draco-fic… *runs away* >8D   
  
**Chapter 15:** Duh, you'll find out what happens to everyone that's alive, dead, and halfway there! Oh yeah, Snape and friends shall be included in the next chapter, too!   
  
Millions of thanks to **Jonah**, **Kashew**, **the counter**, **Moogie**, **Spinn**, and **Grace** for reviewing the last chapter! Much luff to you all! 


	15. Hopelessness

_Dumbledore, Snape and Hagrid reappear in this chapter, but in case you're totally lost as to where they are, review chapter 13—it's where we last saw them. ;)_   
  
  
**Chapter 15: Hopelessness**   
  
She had just started to catch her breath again, though she was actually breathing quite hard, when she heard Blaise's voice one more time.   
  
"AVADA—!"   
  
Without thought, Ginny, remembering she'd placed Draco's dead wand in her back pocket, pulled it out and hit Blaise's wand as hard as she possibly could.   
  
"—KEDAVRA!"   
  
Though Ginny felt she'd used enough strength and force to knock the wand out of Blaise's hand, she'd merely caused the death spell to hit the wall above her, at which point Ginny shielded her eyes and quickly crawled away from the crumbling pieces of the stone wall falling toward the ground. She could see the sky outside through the hole in the wall; it was raining.   
  
"You little wench!" Blaise cried after hurriedly surveying her wand for damages. "Get back here!" But ignoring what she'd just demanded of Ginny, Blaise, instead, ran at Ginny again just as she'd done at the beginning of the fight, but the youngest Weasley was prepared this time.   
  
Ginny placed her weight on her heels and bent her knees and just as Blaise was nearly on top of her, Ginny stepped aside and then jumped at Blaise's midsection, pushing the Zabini girl to the floor. Ginny heard Blaise's cries of pain and she felt something inside her tighten. It struck her as odd that the louder Blaise screamed, the stranger she felt, yet this _strange_ new feeling felt _good_.   
  
Blaise had obviously had the air knocked out of her and Ginny took advantage of this opportunity. She grabbed Blaise's hair with both her hands and quickly walked on her knees to the wall and _banged_ Blaise's head against it.   
  
More screaming came from Blaise and Ginny felt her insides go empty. For so long—even before she'd entered this mad mansion, she had so many feelings, so many thoughts, so many things bottled up, and here she was, taking it out this pathetic Blaise Zabini. A worthy opponent, no doubt, but what kind of fight was this? This wasn't a fight… Ginny felt herself let go of Blaise's hair. She stood up and backed away one, then two, then three steps from Blaise.   
  
Zabini was a mess. Ginny was sure Blaise looked worse than she did. The girl in emerald garb lay motionless on the floor, eyes wide open. Ginny almost feared she was dead, but the occasional rise and fall of her chest and the one or two raspy breaths she drew proved otherwise.   
  
"Oh, Godric…" Ginny couldn't bear to look at Blaise anymore. She turned around and aimlessly walked away from the girl on the floor. "Dear Gods…" Ginny whispered, covering her face with the palms of her hands. She winced, the blows on the left side of her head stinging as she touched them. And when she removed her hands from her face and opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Draco's still form, a mere three or four paces from her. "Oh, dear Godric!" She cried before running and then falling a few feet away and vomiting.   
  
She thought her ears were ringing, but during a break in her coughing fit, she realized they weren't _ringing_. Breathing hard, she crawled back toward Draco's body. In her head she could hear his last words in life—more like last word: "Rain."   
  


* * *

  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were shoved into their "room" at Malfoy Manor.   
  
Hermione mused aloud. "This looks just like a Muggle hotel room!"   
  
The room was about ten paces wide and ten paces long. The walls were painted a depressing gray and the carpet floor was emerald green. Pushed against the far wall were two twin beds with stark white sheets, between which was a small table with a lamp atop it and off to the side was a room they assumed to be the latrine.   
  
Hermione broke the silence that she'd planted. "Well, since they were nice enough to give us beds and such, we might as well catch a few winks while we can."   
  
"Are you sure it's safe?" Harry asked.   
  
But Ron didn't seem to care; he had already crawled into one of the beds and sat propped up by the wall. He was clutching his arm and it looked as though he was still in considerable pain.   
  
"Harry, you should know one can't do _that_ much to hex a hotel room!"   
  
"Since I spent so much of my time with the Dursleys in lavish hotels—forgive me Hermione, how could I have been so silly?" Harry said sarcastically. "Oh! Let's not forget the fact that this hotel room's in _Malfoy Manor_!"   
  
"Oh," Hermione trailed off, realizing that though Harry came from the Muggle world, many Muggle things were still new to him as they are to a wizard. "Well, I'm pretty sure nothing in here has been hexed. Riddle mentioned that they weren't done with us just yet, and as dandy as that may _not_ sound, it means we're safe for now… odd as _that_ may sound." Hermione made a face.   
  
"Fine, I believe you," Harry said, taking his glasses off and tossing them on the bedside table while he peeled his T-shirt off and flung it somewhere behind him. When he sat down on the bed he felt himself bounce a second later—Hermione had sat down on the other side, but had sprung up immediately as did Harry.   
  
Both were scarlet.   
  
"You can have the bed," Harry stuttered, rubbing the nape of his neck. "I'm used to sleeping on the floor, and after living with the Dursleys for so long, a carpeted floor is somewhat a luxury," he said with a sheepish laugh.   
  
"Well, we could share the bed," Hermione suggested, suddenly wishing Harry would put his shirt back on.   
  
"Hermione, you are not sharing a bed with Harry!" Ron finally chimed in. And then he flushed red. "You're not sharing one with me either," he said a bit uneasily.   
  
"Then do you and Harry want to share a—?"   
  
"_NO!_" Both boys said at once, both pulling faces of childish disgust.   
  
"Ron, no one can share a bed with you. What, with you and your gymnastics displays, anyone bunking with you would be lucky to wake up the next morning!" Hermione scoffed.   
  
"Not to mention your snoring," Harry muttered.   
  
"Well… you still can't share a bed with Harry." Ron said, trying to cross his arms without bothering his injured hand. "It's gross… because… uh… because…" Ron thought for a second. "Because Harry sleeps so darned still that it's like sleeping next to a dead person and it'll frighten you if you happen to wake up in the middle of the night!" He turned his nose up. "So there!"   
  
"_Honestly_!" Hermione threw her hands in the air. "You are so naïve!"   
  
"It's okay!" Harry yelled. "I already said it—_I'll_ sleep on the floor, and don't either of you think anything of it. I've slept on the floor all my life and missing the chance to sleep on Malfoy covers and bed sheets is a chance I'm willing to miss."   
  
Harry pulled a couple blankets off Ron's bed and grabbed the cushion from a chair in the corner and proceeded to make himself a bed in-between the twin beds.   
  


* * *

  
  
As soon as Snape and Hagrid had walked out of the bottle they were held captive in, they had returned to their normal sizes once again. Hagrid now held the small bottle in his enormous hands, marveling at how small he had been moments before.   
  
"Hagrid—"   
  
"_Professor_ Hagrid," Hagrid corrected Snape, still gushing with pride after having figured out how to get out of the bottle they had been in moments before.   
  
Snape put a hand to his face and covered his eyes. He gritted his teeth. "_Professor_ Hagrid! Would you _please_ stop examining that damn bottle and get your ass into gear? We need to save the children!"   
  
Hagrid suddenly looked up from the bottle, remembering little Ginny, Harry, Hermione, Ron—even Draco.   
  
"Yes! _Those_ children!" Snape growled, finally gaining Hagrid's attention. "And you cannot stay here if you intend to go to where the children are—to save them!" Snape had tried to make the message as easy to understand as possible. Just because Hagrid was a half-giant didn't mean his brain was proportional to the rest of his body. "Do you understand?" Snape asked slowly in an overbearing tone.   
  
Hagrid's mouth hung open and without warning, his eyes lit up, his mouth broke into a grin, and he clapped his hands together repeatedly. "We're gonna be heroes! We're gonna be heroes! We're gonna be heroes!" He chanted.   
  
"_What_ did I do to deserve this?" Snape muttered, closing his eyes for a moment. He proceeded in leading an ecstatic Hagrid out of the room to no place in particular.   
  


* * *

  
  
Harry lay on his stomach in the dark room, his chin resting on his hands, his head at the feet of the twin beds he lay between. He assumed it had been roughly an hour since his two best friends had fallen asleep and he wondered how Hermione could look like she was sleeping so peacefully while Ron's snoring was louder than a freight train. Though had Ron been a silent sleeper like Hermione, Harry doubted he'd be able to sleep even then. There was too much to think about—so much he wished his head would explode…that way everything would be out in the open, visible and obvious.   
  
Harry was wearing his cargo pants. He reached into a pocket on the side of his leg and pulled out an all too familiar object wrapped in crumpled brown paper. He removed the brown paper with care and inside was Harry's half of the communicating mirror Sirius had given him. It seemed so long ago that he'd received it.   
  
He stared into the mirror, straining his eyes to find his dark reflection in the already dark room. Though he could barely see into the mirror, Harry stretched the sleeve of his shirt down to his palm and used the cloth material of his shirt to polish the mirror, as if doing this might convince the mirror to 'work'. Harry found he'd look into the mirror quite often nowadays. Childish as it was, every time he peered into the enchanted mirror, he'd always hope that instead of his own reflection staring back at him, he might, just maybe, just for a second, see Sirius. See _his_ Sirius. The only person who he had ever loved.   
  
Harry knew his parents had loved him—why else would they have died for him? But he hadn't known them long enough to truly love them back. He loved that they had loved them and he loved them for saving his life with theirs, but they were gone now. And Sirius… he was gone now, too; however, Harry had known him and he had loved him from the bottom of his heart.   
  
The troubled boy turned on his back now. Harry eyed Ron's tossing form, then eyed Hermione's still form, her chest rising and falling in a steady pattern.   
  
They would never understand.   
  
He sat up now, his bangs casting dark shadows on his normally stunning green eyes.   
  
Harry knew Ron and Hermione _wanted_ to understand what he was going through, but frankly, he hoped they would never understand. He didn't want to see them get hurt on his account. He was the living proof of what damage heartbreak does.   
  
He quietly wrapped the mirror back up and placed it back in his pocket. He got up and placed a pillow under his covers in case either of his sleeping friends glanced at the ground if they woke up in the middle of the night and he walked toward the door of the room. He tried it and it opened—why hadn't he thought of trying the door before?   
  
Torches along the walls lighted the corridor beyond the room. No one was around.   
  
With one final glance at his friends, he left them behind.   
  


* * *

  
  
Hagrid had long since stopped chanting and singing.   
  
"Are we lost, Professor Snape?" Hagrid asked.   
  
Snape glared at the half-giant, silencing him. He turned another corner.   
  
"I think we've already been this way, Professor," Hagrid pointed out timidly.   
  
Snape whirled around. "You think we've already been this way?" Snape mimicked Hagrid's timid yet burly voice.   
  
"Well, I already remember passing these stones here," Hagrid pointed to a spot on the highest part of the wall where uncannily anthropomorphic bones were stuck into the stones.   
  
"All right. _You_ lead the way, you giant oaf!" Snape growled.   
  
"I never said I knew which way to—"   
  
"Go!" Snape growled. "You think I don't know what I'm doing? Fine! You lead us, _Professor_!"   
  
"Er… okay," Hagrid muttered, turning around, opposite from the direction Snape had been leading them. Five minutes, six turns, and three staircases later, Hagrid began to worry—not that he wasn't worried before that. The walls all looked different, but no matter which way he went, he kept getting more and more confused. He now stood at a fork in the road—more specifically a fork in the building? "This way," Hagrid muttered. And just as they turned the corner—   
  
BAM!   
  
Hagrid stumbled backward, Snape fell to the ground and whomever or whatever they had bumped into somersaulted backwards and finally stopping on his stomach.   
  
"What the bloody—" Snape had begun to say when Hagrid suddenly exclaimed.   
  
"Headmaster Dumbledore! It's so good ter see ye! We've been lookin' all over fer ye!"   
  
"Hello, Rubeus," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "Severus, are you all right?"   
  
Snape got up. "Yes," he muttered, knowing he'd never hear the end of this from Hagrid—_Professor_ Hagrid.   
  
"Did ye know, Headmaster? We're gonna be heroes!" Hagrid exclaimed and then proceeded in explaining what he imagined was the rescue plan.   
  


* * *

  
  
"Ron!" Hermione whispered. "Ron! Wake up!"   
  
Ron groaned. "Five more minutes," he pleaded as he hid under his covers.   
  
Hermione ruthlessly tore the covers off of him. "Ron! WAKE UP! HARRY'S GONE!"   
  
That worked.   
  
Ron sprang up and tried to open his sleepy eyes wide. "What? He was just down there, wasn't he?"   
  
"No, he's not anymore!" Hermione cried. She turned on the lamp on the bedside table. "Oh, Ron! What if they've taken him to… to who-knows-where?" She began pacing back and forth. "Who knows what they'll do to him!" Her hands were buried in her bushy hair. "What, with them being Voldemort's evil minions and whatnot… _Ron_!" She looked up. "Ron?"   
  
Ron had an awkward expression about his face. He wasn't nearly as hysterical about the situation as Hermione was. "That bastard," Ron spat eyeing Harry's sleeping area.   
  
"Wha-?! Ron! What're you saying? Harry's gone! He's not here! They took him!"   
  
"Yeah, he's gone and that's because he _left_!" Ron yelled.   
  
"Of course he left, but—?"   
  
"But what, Hermione? Look where the pillow is, Hermione—use your brain because I know you have one! He put the pillow where he was supposed to be sleeping and I assume that pillow was covered with his blanket before you pulled it off, was it not?" Ron glared at Hermione, waiting for an answer, but her silence was answer enough.   
  
Hermione gaped. "Well if he left by free will, he could at least have told one of us or left a note."   
  
"Yet he didn't, thus proving his being a bastard." Ron rebutted. He walked across the room to where Hermione had thrown his blanket and picked it up with his uninjured hand. "I'm going back to sleep. You best get back into your bed as well because I'm turning the light off and if you can't see, then you can't see!"   
  
Ron was as red as his hair and Hermione was close to tears.   
  
"Ron…" Hermione trailed off.   
  
"What?" He barked.   
  
She stared at him, her lips trembled. "Goodbye."   
  
Ron finally looked up. "What?" He said flabbergasted.   
  
"I'm going to look for him," Hermione clarified.   
  
"Oh no you're not! He left and if he'd wanted us to follow him, he would've left us a feckin' note, Hermione! So get back into bed now and go to sleep!"   
  
"Ron, I don't care if he left with or without leaving us a note! He's wandering the halls of Malfoy Manor alone—your sister's here, too!" Ron looked up at the mentioning of Ginny, his gaze piercing. "It baffles me that _I'm_ the one trying to convince _you_ to go out there and look for them! Don't you care?"   
  
"Fine." Ron struggled out of bed. "You want to look for them?" Ron grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her to the door. He opened it and shoved his best friend over the threshold. "Go feckin' find them and I hope you have a grand time!"   
  
And he slammed the door shut.   
  


* * *

  
  
Ginny sat on her knees at Draco's side, her head lowered, veiling the blank expression on her face. She stared at Draco's ever-paling countenance.   
  
How had things gone so wrong? So morbidly awry? What she'd give to hear Draco hiss at her just one more time. He hadn't even been a large part of her life, really. In fact, all she'd ever felt for him was hatred. Yet now, his lifeless form before her, the one thing she wished for most right now was for Draco to live. Alas, fate had played its card and her wish was hopeless.   
  
Her infatuation with Harry—hopeless. Her flings with Michael Corner, Dean Thomas, the others—hopeless. Trying to stand out in a family of _seven_ children—_completely_ hopeless. Trying to do at least _one_ thing right with her life—apparently, _beyond_ hopeless.   
  
She suddenly remembered when Draco and Ron had switched bodies—how freely she had spoken with Draco when not taking into account who he really was. She knew she wished for Draco's vitality to return because she knew, truly and deeply, that Draco wasn't bad. He was a bully, his father was hopeless, but he wasn't. He wasn't his father. He wasn't hopeless like her either…he was _supposed_ to be alive—he was the hope for people like him. As obvious as his pallor and silver locks, he was the light at the end of the tunnel for those supposedly like him—for those he was supposed to be like.   
  
But he wasn't like them. Ginny knew for a fact the boy had not been like anyone at all. He was truly unique and such a flame wasn't supposed to go out so easily.   
  
Ginny breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. She felt so empty, so clear. So guilty.   
  
Not only had she taken her anger out on Blaise by busting her head open, but she somehow felt responsible for Draco's death.   
  
She shivered even though she was still covered in a thin film of sweat from the strenuous fight she had just endured. Her arms were stiff, fists clenched on her knees. She bit her lip, trying to stay together, but as she opened her mouth to breathe, she felt herself fall apart and the tears rolled freely down her face.   
  
"Oh, Draco!" She whispered in a trembling voice.   
  
The young girl put her head on Draco's chest, hugged his cold body with one arm, and brought one of Draco's rigid arms closer with her free hand.   
  
When she was young, she remembered crying and whining all the time and her mother would tell her that if she cried too much, some day she's run out of tears to cry. But she felt so horrible now…it would be a blessing if she could run out of tears.   
  
She knew that would never happen, but it _would_ be a blessing if she could just run out of _reasons_ to cry.   
  
As the majority of her tears subsided, she sniffled occasionally in the otherwise silent chamber and remained lying on Draco's chest when she suddenly felt something.   
  
Her eyes snapped open, her heart began racing and she squeezed Draco's hand hard.   
  
_Thump…_   
  
**Author's Note:** Oh, gasp! The _thump_! XD Wow… I love doing these cliffhangerish endings… though this one's only halfway cliffhangerish. ^^;; And, uh, yeah… Ron… heh, more about him and his issues later. Oh yeah, hope no one was _too_ terribly confused with the Dumbledore, Snape and Hagrid scenes… don't tell me you'd forgotten about those guys!! But yeah, kinda short chapter… shorter than usual, that is… but I still hope you guys liked it!   
  
**Chapter 16:** We'll follow Harry for a bit then find out what happens with the Ron/Hermione fight and why Ron's in such a fussy mood. More Draco/Ginny madness, more halfway deep thoughts, and more random stuff! :O!! Look forward to it? ^__^   
  
Muchas gracias to my reviewers: **Jonah**, **LaurenLizHP**, **Lily Thorne**, **Spinn**, **Eiko**, **Maureen**, **Grace**, and **bigreader**! Yall're what keeps this story pumpin' and pimpin'! XD I live on reviews... O__O!! 


	16. Crimson Rain Clouds

**Note:** The italic text is a dream sequence.   
  
**Chapter 16: Crimson Rain Clouds**   
  
"Merlin's beard!" Ginny cried in a soft whisper. She immediately lifted her head off Draco's chest and stared at the pale boy with wide eyes, filled to their lids with shock. "Oh, please," she wished as she once again placed her head on the bloodstained portion of Draco's shirt above his chest.   
  
Ginny's head lay on Draco's chest for what she counted to be thirteen seconds before she heard another _thump_. The next one came after another thirteen seconds, the one after came in fourteen seconds, and the one after that came in twelve seconds.   
  
_But the knife went_ through_ him_, Ginny gawked. Now that what she had wanted—the miracle she had hoped for, had become a reality, all she could think was _the knife went straight through his heart!_   
  
Ginny hated herself for trying to prove the fact that Draco Malfoy still had a fighting chance was false, but she had seen it! She remembered Draco had been screaming… screaming for rain—   
  
Wait.   
  
Ginny suddenly remembered when Draco had first started screaming and one of the very last thing's he had asked her had been: "Where's Rain?"   
  
Rain was a person.   
  
In a moment's notice, Ginny dashed over to where Draco's wand lay next to Blaise. _He's not dead_, Ginny thought. Then she looked at Blaise. The Slytherin girl with red hair, green eyes, emerald garb, and a bruised and bloodied face glared back at her with hatred.   
  
"He's not dead," Blaise rasped.   
  
Ginny had kept herself well composed thus far, but this was a surprise. "You mean you _knew_?" She asked angrily.   
  
"You should've—" Blaise coughed. "You should've known, too, Weasley. He's a vampire—I was just playing around with him—"   
  
Ginny's expressions lightened and her eyes widened. "And only a _wooden_ stake through the heart can kill a vampire—not a sword, or metal, or anything like that!"   
  
"Don't _you_ feel smart? Too bad it's too late." Blaise tried to chuckle softly.   
  
"What do you mean it's too late?"   
  
Blaise didn't say anything.   
  
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S TOO LATE?!" Ginny screamed.   
  
Blaise simply spit at Ginny's face in response.   
  
Gripping Draco's wand so tightly that her knuckles turned white, Ginny decided it was a good time to test if Draco would really be able to get through this. Making a large loop in the air with her wand-arm, Ginny muttered, "Petrificus totalus."   
  
And seconds later, Blaise Zabini lay perfectly still—she was petrified.   
  
  
  
Ron leaned against the door he had just shut in Hermione's face—her distraught, confused, worried, kind, tear-streaked face. His best friend's face.   
  
But how could he be in the wrong this time? That was the thing—he _couldn't_ be wrong this time. He knew he wasn't.   
  
Hermione was his best friend, but even before her, Harry had been his best friend. True, the three of them were known as the Hogwarts trio—the triumvirate—but Harry had been first. He'd always be first.   
  
All his life Ron had been confined to the walls of the Burrow. Ginny had been his closest thing to a friend since the rest of his brothers were often at school, but other than cousins and acquaintances, he hadn't ever had the chance to choose who would be his friend, not that he minded Ginny's company. But that all changed the first time he boarded the Hogwarts Express, and as fate would have it, he, the nothing, had chosen to be friends with Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, the hero, the something—the _everything_, and Harry had chosen to be friends with Ron as well. In a way, Ron and Harry were very alike, despite their different rankings in Ron's mind. They were each the other's first friend. The fact was precious to Ron, but he was confused now.   
  
He knew Harry had a lot to worry about, a lot to be upset over, and a lot to deal with, but upon the hinting of a war in the Wizarding World, Hermione and Ron had told Harry they'd stick with him through thick and thin. Back then, when things had seemed so simple, Harry had simply nodded in response. He hadn't even said anything.   
  
And now Ron thought back on it.   
  
Maybe Harry hadn't agreed? After all, he'd just nodded; he hadn't said anything.   
  
Ron clenched his fists, his nails digging into the soft skin of his palms. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He didn't want to be angry and he especially didn't want to be angry with Harry, but try as he might, he couldn't help it. If anything, every grain of sand that tumbled through Time's hourglass seemed to weigh down his emotions even more, further deepening his anger with Harry. His emotions were strong, enflaming like him, and like all fires, they could become uncontrollable. He didn't want the emotions to take him over. He didn't want to be angry with Harry and if this continued any further, he was afraid he'd soon end up hating his best friend.   
  
The boy with red hair thought of how he'd shoved the bushy-haired girl out the door.   
  
Ron had been standing with his back against the door, but now he slid down the frame of the entrance and gripped his flaming red hair in frustration, elbows digging into his knees, which were pulled close to his chest.   
  
Why had Harry just randomly disappeared like that? Maybe Hermione was right—maybe Harry was in great danger and really did need their help.   
  
But it was just too strange and coincidental.   
  
Harry had been so dodgy as of late. So silent and mysterious—just going about his daily patterns, staying out of the way as much as he could.   
  
Hermione would pretend not to notice, but dull as Ron may seem, he could tell Hermione was worried, too.   
  
And it suddenly dawned on him why he was so angry with Harry.   
  
Harry knew perfectly well that he and Hermione would be there for him no matter what the dilemma. Ron remembered their first year at Hogwarts, how he had sacrificed himself in the Chess challenge so Harry would be okay and would be able to continue. He remembered their second year how even without Hermione, _he_ and Harry had taken care of the whole Basilisk issue. He had been there, down in the chamber, and probably would've done something significant if the rocks hadn't separated them. And then their third year, it was he who had helped lead Harry and Hermione down to the Shrieking Shack and had had his leg broken in the process. And though they had their differences in their fourth year, while Hermione was goggling at Viktor Krum, that twit, Ron had been the one to show his support for Harry throughout the whole TriWizard Tourney. He knew Hermione's support was there, too, but he remembered the second task—he, Ron, the nothing, had been Harry's precious person. That should've meant _something_ to Harry…Ron had literally gasped aloud in shock when he'd realized he was Harry's precious person. Harry had made him a something. But to know Harry was now carelessly wandering the floors of Malfoy Manor, was perhaps planning something without telling him or Hermione about it, hadn't even cared about what he, Ron, his best friend would think of the whole matter…it made Ron feel like Harry was mocking his feelings and their friendship—taking it all for granted—and the reason he hated Harry so much for this was because this wasn't like Harry at all.   
  
Ron exhaled. That's why he was so upset.   
  
He felt ignored, overlooked, and mistreated. Though it was all quite childish, he was quite ready to explode.   
  
But, no.   
  
He exhaled again.   
  
Ron knew Harry often allowed his emotions to take him over, but Ron wouldn't settle for that. Ron wasn't Harry and he never would be. Ron was Ron—himself. He was Harry's best friend and he wasn't _supposed_ to be like Harry.   
  
They called him the sidekick for a reason. He was supposed to stick with Harry, through thick and thin—he had said so himself! So that's what he would do.   
  
And only a second after feeling somewhat content after so long, he heard a high-pitched scream next to his ear.   
  
_Hermione!_ Ron thought, instantly back on his feet. _She's still here?_   
  
He opened the door in a flash and his eyes widened and his jaw hung open at what he saw next.   
  
  
  
"Oh look, Rubeus! I've some Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Jelly Beans! Want some?" Dumbledore asked, thoughtfully sucking on a coconut flavoured jelly bean.   
  
"Sure!" Hagrid answered enthusiastically, helping himself to the small box in Dumbledore's hand. "Thanks, Headmaster!"   
  
"Severus?" Dumbledore offered the box to Snape.   
  
"No, Headmaster, I don't want any, thank you for asking. What I _do_ want to know is why we are having a picnic instead of saving the children! Care to explain that, Headmaster?" Snape asked, his lips pursed tight, trying hard not to yell at the Headmaster.   
  
Dumbledore laughed. "_Saving the Children_! Sounds like it ought to be the title of some Muggle video game!"   
  
Snape pulled a face, in disbelief of how odd Dumbledore was being. Then he remembered that during the first war against the Dark Lord, Dumbledore had delayed all the plans by half an hour because he had run out of lemon drops.   
  
But Dumbledore quickly spoke again, seeing Snape's face. "Rubeus has already told me what the both of you have undergone and know, I don't really have much to contribute since I only spoke to Mr. Crouch whilst here, we still don't really know where any of the children are, so I thought it'd be wise to munch on a few snacks before we made our way."   
  
"Heroes with full stomachs are cooler than heroes with empty ones!" Hagrid added, making an interesting face as he sucked on a lime flavoured jelly bean.   
  
"Good God," Snape covered his face with his hand and turned away from the two men with him.   
  
  
  
"Hermione—" Ron had begun to say before allowing an extremely high-pitched scream escape his lips. "Hermione! What, in Godric's name, are you _doing_? That's a dragon!" He pointed out with a shaking finger.   
  
Hermione, still crouched on the floor near the door where she had been all along, looked up at Ron and mouthed wordlessly before finally saying, "It's—it's a Peruvian Vipertooth!"   
  
And just as Hermione had defined it, the Vipertooth threw itself toward the two people before it, but just in time, Ron flung Hermione back into their room and had shut the door tightly.   
  
The door bounced as the dragon crashed into it.   
  
Back against the door, breathing hard, Ron finally looked up at Hermione, who sat on the floor, the palms of her hands behind her. "_What_ were you doing with _that_?" Ron gestured in the direction of the Vipertooth.   
  
"Are you insane?" She panted. "Why would I ever want to conjure up a Peruvian Vipertooth?"   
  
"You tell me! Where did it come from if you didn't conjure it up?"   
  
"Ron! I don't even have a wand! Are you daft? We're in Malfoy Manor! The whole mansion is _filled_ with things five trillion times worse than that Vipertooth!" Hermione explained.   
  
Both of them still exasperated with the other could only pant and occasionally sneak a glance at the other.   
  
Suddenly, the door behind Ron was ripped off its hinges—literally. Ron screamed, the magnitude of force used to tear down the door caused him to topple to the floor next to Hermione. They both began to back away from the approaching Vipertooth. The animal stood before them; they could see its large yellow eyes rolling in its copper-coloured head, staring at them each in turn.   
  
"What do we do _now_?" Ron whimpered, making a face.   
  
Hermione honestly did not know. She pursed her lips together, looking determined while she thought of anything that might help the situation. Peruvian Vipertooths are dangerous, their fangs are venomous, and they have been known to actually _eat_ humans, meaning the one before them wasn't going to remain standing there, swishing its grand tail back and forth, all day long.   
  
But before she could think of anything, the dragon had made its decision; it flew through the air at—   
  
"Ron!" Hermione cried   
  
"Hermione, _help_!" Ron screamed.   
  
And just as the Vipertooth, its mouth wide-open baring two rows of sharp fangs, had reached the redhead, Hermione used all her strength to pull Ron into her—   
  
"Aaaaaargh!" Ron wailed.   
  
Hermione looked down at her friend; she saw a long gash along the left side of his lower torso.   
  
"Ron!" She gasped.   
  
She had no idea what to do with herself. Ron was completely out of it—the fangs of the Peruvian Vipertooth are venomous—fortunately not fatal, but dangerous nonetheless. Ron was breathing heavily and sweating hard and neither of them had a wand.   
  
"This is hopeless!" She whispered; she had never felt this confused in her life.   
  
"Hermione!" Ron hissed urgently, tugging on her shirt from where his head lay in her lap.   
  
She looked up. The Vipertooth was about to strike again. It let out an awful roar, kicked out its legs, jumped up and flew straight at them.   
  
They both screamed and as a last resort, Hermione hugged Ron tightly and turned over, putting her back between the dragon and her friend.   
  
She could almost feel the dragon on her when suddenly, the dragon stopped mid-roar and let out an anguished screech of pain. Hermione's eyes widened, she turned around and was speechless at what she saw.   
  
_Harry_ was fighting the dragon with what looked like Godric Gryffindor's sword! He had stabbed the dragon's tail!   
  
_He came back!_ Was all Hermione could think.   
  
Harry was much more experienced in fighting dangerous creatures and such—if he could survive a duel with the Dark Lord, a dragon couldn't be _too_ much trouble. He rolled under the Vipertooth's tail, which had shot out and attempted to strike Harry. The boy jumped from side to side, face screwed up with concentration, trying to taunt the dragon and hopefully find an angle from which he could gain an advantage…and then he did!   
  
The Vipertooth lurched at Harry and in doing so, had all its legs in the air. Harry took this chance to quickly roll under the dragon and then he inserted the sword into the dragon's underbelly and using all his might, sliced down the whole intestinal cavity, which immediately caused blood from the Vipertooth's open body to drench Harry, who jumped away from the dragon's falling and dead form just in time to avoid being squashed by it.   
  
"Harry, are you all ri—?"   
  
"Ron!" An alarmed Harry yelled. The blood all over his glasses disabled him from seeing, so he took them off and threw them aside as he rushed to his best friend's side. He constantly had to use his forearm to brush his blood-drenched hair off his face; he was dripping dragon blood all over the place. He turned to Hermione. "What happened to him?"   
  
"Oh, Harry! The Peruvian Vipertooth's fangs! The fangs slashed his side!" Hermione said hysterically. Harry was about to suggest getting some of the bed sheets to create a kind of bandage for the wound, but then Hermione explained that the Vipertooth's fangs are venomous.   
  
Harry wiped his bloody hands on the carpet and placed his hand on Ron's forehead. He had passed out during all the action and was feverish.   
  
"We have to help him!"   
  
"I know!" Harry growled.   
  
Hermione winced at his tone.   
  
"I know," he said again, trying to tame the frustration in his voice. He walked over to the dead dragon, pulled out the sword that was still buried in its body, and wiped off the blood on his pants. "I bet Lucius Malfoy himself could help us out."   
  
Hermione gave him a quizzical look.   
  
Harry placed the sword through the space between his pants and his belt as though an imaginary scabbard was at his waist. "I've got his Lord's sword, after all." He gave Hermione a mischievous smirk, patting the sword of Salazar Slytherin at his side. He then placed a clean-looking bed sheet around Ron's torso, bent down and took his friend in his arms, trying not to sag under Ron's weight, and looked at Hermione. "Let's go."   
  
  
  
Ginny stared at Blaise Zabini's motionless form and then at the wand in her hand.   
  
_So Draco's alive_, she finally allowed herself to think.   
  
She walked over to where Draco lay and began examining the boy. Biting her lip with uncertainty, she kneeled next to him. Hopefully her elementary knowledge of healing charms would come to use now.   
  
And she set to work.   
  
  
  
_Draco felt as though he was floating, which was mostly because he _was_ floating.   
  
He blinked over and over, but all he could see around him was pitch-black nothingness. It was quite odd in a way. What he saw was the same, whether he had his eyes opened or closed.   
  
Then he heard something and his eyes were wide open out of instinct. From his peripheral vision, he spotted a striking blotch of red.   
  
"Rain," he said in relief.   
  
But he sensed something else and turned to the other side and saw—   
  
"Rain?"   
  
He frantically turned his head from left to right. Both girls before him were identical.   
  
"R-rain?" He asked this time.   
  
And without a moment's notice, both women had zoomed over to where he was and began circling around him at great speeds. They were going so fast that he could hear a muffled swooshing noise; however, when he listened closer, he realized the swooshing noise wasn't _noise_—they were whispering.   
  
"Trust."   
  
"Hope."   
  
"Friendship."   
  
"Betrayal."   
  
"Blood."   
  
"Hero."   
  
"Love."   
  
"Courage."   
  
"Deceit."   
  
When they spoke, their voices seemed to echo.   
  
Not able to handle the confusion anymore, Draco grabbed fistfuls of his hair and tugged. "Arrrrgh! What do you want with me, Rain?"   
  
And both women suddenly stopped and stood before Draco now.   
  
"Do you not bleed?" The one to his left asked in the all too familiar gentle, yet haunting voice.   
  
Then the one to his right came closer to him and extended an arm to touch his face. "Tell me, do you not bl—?"   
  
In the middle of what she was saying, Draco firmly grabbed the woman's hand to prevent her from touching his face like… like that. Something was quivering at the edge of his mind, but he wasn't quite sure what.   
  
"What do you mean by this bleeding business?" Draco asked furiously. "I've had enough of this, Rain!" He glared at the girl whose hand he held, but then remembering she might not be Rain, glared at the other girl, whose face was completely emotionless.   
  
"You," he called out to the indifferent face. "Who are you?"   
  
She only raised her eyes to his, but said nothing.   
  
"I asked you a question! Dammit! Answer the question! Who are you?"   
  
The girl simply stared at him sadly, then lowered her eyelids and turned away from him, not even looking back as her form receded.   
  
"Wait!" Draco instinctively hollered after her, releasing the other girl's hand as he attempted to chase after the retreating girl. "Wait!" He cried again.   
  
The girl turned around and Draco was taken aback by the emptiness in her eyes. Just knowing her cold as steel eyes were looking into him sent an icy chill down his spine. If he could just warm her a little…   
  
Draco lifted his arm and his hand came near the girl's face; she watched his fingers until they were on her cheek.   
  
She allowed him to hold her face there.   
  
Draco saw the girl's ashen eyes glance at him when he had touched her face, then she lowered her eyelids to stare at the hand that was on her cheek. At that moment, a tiny smile slowly spread across her lips—they seemed redder now. When the girl looked up, Draco became so startled he removed his hand from the girl's face with an intake of cold air.   
  
Her eyes were a never-ending shade of cinnamon-brown now. Before, she had seemed even paler than he had, but now color had flooded into her face, her bare forearms, and small legs; she looked as though she had a healthy tan from lazy days spent under a familiar sun. Her hair was still the same shade of ginger, but now it shone gold.   
  
The mere sight of her was completely breathtaking to Draco.   
  
"Do you not bleed?" The girl behind him said suddenly.   
  
Jarred back to his senses, Draco turned around and saw the girl behind him looking very much different than she had moments before. Her fiery red hair was bent out of sorts into curls and she wore a long, lacy black dress.   
  
"Do you not bleed?" She snarled again.   
  
Before Draco could say anything, however, the girl next to him put her small hand on his shoulder. "I won't let you bleed, Draco."   
  
Something inside him finally clicked and his eyes widened.   
  
"Ginny?" He breathed.   
  
"I won't let you bleed, Draco!" She said as she floated past him.   
  
When Draco turned to see where she was going, it was too late for him to do anything. He saw the girl with the black dress coming at him full speed, her open mouth bearing long, pointy fangs. However, just before the woman crashed into him, "Ginny" had put herself in-between them.   
  
The moment the fangs had made contact with "Ginny", her new, beautiful form shattered away into a million tiny pieces and disappeared into complete oblivion.   
  
"Ginny!" Draco cried   
  
But before he could completely consume what had just happened, the woman in black rammed into him and he felt her fangs sink deep into his throat. They toppled over and he lay on the ground, unable to move while the beast of a woman lay sprawled on the ground with him, her mouth still attached to his throat.   
  
Everything began to appear blurry, the few colors around him were melting into each other, then all he saw was black and without warning, the black faded to a shocking shade of crimson—   
  
  
  
"GINNY!"_   
  
Draco snapped open his eyes and all he saw was the crimson from his dream. But as he struggled into a half-sitting position, he realized the crimson he saw was hair.   
  
"Gi—Weasley?" Draco gasped.   
  
The girl before him smiled weakly, her kind eyes holding back tears. He looked her over and couldn't remember where she had gotten so many bruises and how she had come to look so bloody.   
  
"Draco, you're all right!" Ginny finally gasped, lunging herself into his chest, hugging him tightly.   
  
He looked down at Ginny, but then caught sight of his unbuttoned shirt—covered in _his_ blood?   
  
"_Bloody_ hell!" Draco's unused voice croaked. He internally whacked himself for the bad pun and he pushed Ginny away from his torso. "Why am I—why are _we_ covered in so much damn blood?" He asked, completely baffled, his fingers feeling around his throats for fang-scars. He found none.   
  
Ginny silently forgave him for shoving her away so abruptly—she'd be confused, too, if she awoke to find herself drenched in her own blood.   
  
"It's a long story," Ginny said. "But I checked all your wounds and they all seem to have healed themselves, oddly enough. And the blood on your shirt probably looks startling, but a teaspoon of blood can dye a whole shirt red—"   
  
"—I know."   
  
"—So don't worry about that. But even if you _had_ been bleeding, you'd have nothing to worry about. I'm training to become a medi-witch, I'll have you know. I mean, I've had enough practice with healing my brothers and such. Like that one time—Goodness, I must sound like I'm rambling now!" She laughed nervously. "But don't worry, I would _not let you bleed_ all over the place! Honestly, though! Do you really not remember anything that happened—?"   
  
"You wouldn't let me bleed?" Draco suddenly asked.   
  
"Well, of course not!" Ginny said slowly, a bit confused.   
  
Draco then groaned and proceeded in massaging his temples. "Dear God," he croaked, finally remembering how his dream had ended.   
  
He couldn't bear to look at Ginny—his savior—anymore. She may be a poor, stupid, Mudblood-loving twit, but this very twit had just saved his life.   
  
That moment, he closed his eyes tightly and promised himself to get away from her as soon as he could make sure she was safe.   
  
If his dream had been a prophecy, from this moment onward, he vowed to avoid its reoccurring at all costs.   
  
**Author's Note:** Yay! I liked this chapter! 'Twas phun to write! Anyway, sorry for keeping Draco unconscious for so long in the fic! I imagine it must've become somewhat annoying and boring, eh? Oh well…now that he's conscious again, on to the D/G madness! waves flags around Go D/G!   
  
**Chapter 17:** Most importantly, we'll find out what happens to Ron! And remember, the trio's little dilemma with Harry isn't _completely_ solved just yet. D/G madness as well, and more of the professors! Jelly bean, anyone?   
  
As always, thanks to my reviewers: **Maureen**, **ugahill**, **bigreader**, **Spinn**, **Moogie**, and **seekerpeeker**! Gotta luff yall! 


	17. Clear As Mud

**Chapter 17: Clear As Mud**   
  
Harry and Hermione walked on in silence. Every so often, Harry would have to stop and readjust Ron's position in his arms; he refused to stop and rest even when Hermione had mentioned that the Vipertooth's fangs are only venomous, not fatal. Along with Slytherin's sword, Harry had also retrieved their wands, but had smacked Hermione's arm away when she had tried to apply _Mobilicorpus_ to Ron's still form.   
  
He felt absolutely awful for messing up again.   
  
The whole world considered Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, to be the luckiest boy in the world. He had survived when the Dark Lord had come for his life when he was just a baby boy. He had escaped Voldemort's clutches every time his sworn enemy had come for his life. Harry would often scoff when he heard witches and wizards whispering about his _accomplishments_ and _achievements_ when he passed them at random in the middle of London. With such a mess of black hair poking out at every angle from his head, he was surprised people could still identify him by his scar.   
  
_Because_ his parents had died, he had survived Voldemort's first and second attack. _Because_ Cedric had been a mere pawn at getting Harry to Voldemort, Cedric had died. _Because_ the Dark Lord was so bent on getting rid of him, Mr. Weasley had come close to dying and his one, his only, the first and last person he had ever cared for… _Sirius_ had lost his life… but at least Harry had survived. Yes, how lucky, indeed.   
  
Harry raised his shoulder to wipe off a trail of dragon blood that rolled off his hair and onto his cheek. His arms ached and he was so tired. He wasn't even eighteen, yet he felt like an old man. Every time he took a step with his left leg, Salazar Slytherin's sword would bang against the length of his leg and he felt as though every bang sent a flurry of vibrations through his body. He was blinking repetitively now and he knew Hermione was saying something to him—he could see her mouth moving, but he didn't have the will to hear her anymore. His body didn't want to hear anything anymore. He found himself wishing a familiar wish all over again—he wished so hard that all of this was over. Selfish as the wish might be, he wished that so many years ago, Voldemort had succeeded in killing him when he was a little baby. His parents could have gotten away, Cedric would still be alive, Ron would be living happily with a healthy Mr. Weasley at the Burrow, Hermione would continue on with her studies, and most of all, his beloved Sirius would still be alive.   
  
He continued walking, but he had his eyes closed now. Behind his closed lids, he could imagine a day last year at Hogsmeade. It was snowing and he, Ron and Hermione had had a snowball fight. Ron, naturally, had won since he could run farther with his long legs and could throw harder with his long, sturdy arms. Hermione had been clever about it all and had found a systematic way to dodge most of the snowballs headed her way, but Harry had tried to duck in the snow when snowballs came his way, which proved not to be very effective as he was completely soaked after they had tired.   
  
And now he saw himself sitting at The Three Broomsticks, sandwiched between his two best friends, watching their coats, scarves, hats, and gloves dry in front of a fire while they thawed their insides with warm butterbeer. Harry saw Ron was saying something—he could only see his mouth moving, but he remembered what it had been that Ron was talking about: Draco Malfoy's Russian snow hat.   
  
"He thinks he's so extravagant in that foreign piece of junk, but he just looks like Hitler!" Harry remembered Ron had said. Then Hermione had looked at him with awe, surprised that Ron actually knew about Muggle history, but Harry remembered Ron had looked up Hitler in Hermione's Muggle history books just so he could effectively make fun of Malfoy's hat. They had had a good laugh over the issue. Harry watched himself and his friends laughing heartily… how he wished days as simple as those would—could return…   
  


- - -

  
  
"Harry!"   
  
Harry felt someone's fingers digging into his shoulder, shaking him furiously.   
  
"Harry! Oh, Harry! _Harry_! _Please_ wake up!"   
  
Harry's eyes snapped open. He was sitting against the wall and Hermione had been the one yelling at him to wake up.   
  
"Harry, how do you feel?"   
  
"A little dizzy," is what he felt like saying. "Like crap," is what he might've liked to say, but instead, he muttered, "Fine," ignoring the fact that his vision kept blurring every few seconds.   
  
Then he turned and saw Ron's still form was leaning against the wall opposite him. His friend had sweated a lot; almost his whole shirt was drenched. He would be angry to find out his Chudley Cannons shirt was ruined. Ron's mouth hung open as he slept and occasionally let out an obnoxiously loud snore.   
  
"What happened?" Harry stuttered, though he knew the answer already.   
  
"You fainted, Harry," Hermione said with a stern, yet sad look in her eyes.   
  
Harry drew his knees up, put a hand to his forehead, and heaved a grand breath before proceeding in getting up and preparing to carry Ron again. However, he could not; Hermione had pushed him back to the floor.   
  
"Harry! You just _fainted_! Do us all a favor and rest just a little so you don't end up fainting the whole way to wherever it is you're taking us!" Hermione huffed. "Do you even _know_ where you're taking us? Also, it isn't even your fault Ron's hurt! If anyone could take part of the blame, I could since I was _there_ when the Vipertooth injured him, but even _I_ know it wasn't my fault! So, just because you feel bad about Ron doesn't mean you need to walk around Malfoy Manor, aimlessly, no doubt, carrying Ron in your arms the whole time even though you've been blessed with the knowledge of magic. Oh yeah, you're also hurting _yourself_ along the way!" Though Harry was propped against the wall, Hermione took her hand and pushed Harry's right shoulder. "I know you're used to playing hero, and that's great, Harry, I support that, really, I do! But if you go hurting yourself so carelessly, there'll be no one left to play that hero." The look on Hermione's face softened. "I know you have a lot to be upset over, Harry, but I also know that you're perfectly aware of the fact that Ron and I told you to come to us if you ever have any problems. You haven't been yourself as of late, Harry, and I bet you feel terribly clever for hiding it from us, but as ignorant as Ron and I may seem, we're _going_ to notice if there's something wrong with you. Judging from what's just happened with you and from other things that Ron and I have both witnessed, there _is_ something wrong with you—you're hurting, we can tell, and I really wish you'd tell us what's up, Harry. I know there are some things you want to keep to yourself and I respect that, but I really wish you'd tell us what's wrong. You're hurting yourself, Harry, and if _that_ doesn't matter to you, just know that you're hurting us, too."   
  
Harry didn't take his eyes off Hermione's face the whole time she spoke, and now that she had finished, he didn't know what to say. He didn't think he really had anything to say.   
  
He had messed up again.   
  
Hermione stared at Harry, waiting for him to at least say something, maybe even grunt. But it didn't look like he was going to say anything at all, so with a depressing sigh, she too leaned against the wall next to Harry.   
  
But before she was able to form another thought, she saw Harry move from the corner of her eye. She had thought he was going to try and pick up Ron again, but she internally scoffed at herself when she saw that all Harry had done was slid down lower on the wall so that he was slouching and had turned his head so that he could see both Ron and herself through the corners of his eyes.   
  
"I… I'm sorry," Harry finally said in a low, deep voice.   
  
Hermione, glad that Harry had finally decided to remotely open up to her, responded immediately. "Harry, I told you, it's not your fault what happened—"   
  
"No," Harry said a bit louder to signal Hermione to stop speaking. "I mean… I mean I'm sorry for… I'm sorry for leaving you two earlier tonight."   
  
Hermione was taken aback. He had come back, so she didn't think they'd be talking now, of all times, about his leaving them in the first place. "Well, you came back, though," Hermione said a bit uncertainly. "You came back because you went to find our wands, right? And in doing so you probably stumbled upon Salazar Slytherin's sword, right?"   
  
Harry still wasn't looking directly at Hermione.   
  
Tears were welling up in Hermione's eyes and she didn't know why. "Isn't that right, Harry? Tell me," she pleaded.   
  
"I…" Harry began to say in a croaky voice. He ran a hand through his blood-stiffened hair; his eyes were small and squinted, focusing on a random spot on the floor in front of him. He took a deep breath and started from a different angle. "Hermione, I knew I was hurting you—you and Ron both. I knew, and I'm terribly sorry for that, I am, honestly!" The words tumbled out of his mouth. "My whole life I have been a burden to people!" He could see Hermione shaking her head 'no', staring at him longingly with tear-filled eyes. "Don't deny it, Hermione! My parents died because of me! Cedric, Sirius, and hundreds of other people died on account of my existence! And then there's you two." Harry finally looked up at Hermione and she understood why he had been looking down the whole time. While she had been trying to hold back her tears, Harry had already begun to cry. "You two are the best friends anyone could ever have, and I mean it! You're always there for me; you not only say it, but do it as well, and I feel blessed to have found two people such as you and Ron. But…" Harry looked up at the ceiling as if the words he wanted to say were written there. He finally looked down at Hermione again; he wasn't crying anymore. "But why do you two have to be so damn faithful?" He sighed.   
  
"Harry, I—"   
  
"Hermione, I left tonight because I don't want to be around you anymore. I don't want to be around you or Ron. The total time I spent with Sirius in my whole life is less than a month! I hardly even knew him! I only brushed shoulders with Cedric on the Quidditch pitch! I knew him as a fantastic Quidditch player. And… and my parents… I didn't know them at all. I can't even remember them! They're all gone because of me, Hermione, and I don't want the same to happen to you and Ron, too. It's like I have three shadows, y'know?" Harry sniffed. "I'm grateful for you two, I already said that, but people aren't supposed to have three shadows… they're only supposed to have one."   
  
Hermione was speechless. She didn't understand what Harry was trying to say and Harry could see that.   
  
"I don't want you two to get hurt," he glanced at Ron, "or worse than just hurt because of me. I don't have anyone else besides you two, Hermione." And with that, he was finished. He turned away from Hermione, wondering what would happen from there.   
  
And a moment later, he felt a weight on his shoulder. As he turned to see what it was, his chin brushed against something familiarly bushy. Hermione had laid her head on his shoulder.   
  
Harry stiffened.   
  
"I love you, Harry," Hermione said in her small, soft voice, closing her eyes.   
  
Harry's eyes were plates on his face, but he dared not move.   
  
_Well…_this_ is a bit awkward…_ he thought.   
  
But then Hermione continued. "I love you and Ron both, Harry." She snuggled up closer to him; she was shivering for some reason. "And I know Ron loves us very much, too. Love is a very strong word, and that's why I'm using it. You and your mother are bonded by her strong love for you, and in a similar way, the three of us are bonded, Harry, and just because you're uncomfortable with it doesn't change a thing. It takes so much more than that to break a bond so strong, Harry, and I'm sure you know that from first-hand experience. So I guess _I'm_ sorry, Harry… because death is the only thing that'll ever make me leave your side."   
  
Harry felt an odd warm, yet cold feeling in his chest. He felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his burden, yet another heavier weight was placed in the same spot to replace it. But he already knew what it meant. For so long he was worried Hermione and Ron would get hurt on his account, but Hermione's reassuring had finally made him think otherwise. He was more than glad that he could always count on Hermione and Ron to be at his side, but unlike he who had not had the chance to choose who he would be, Hermione and Ron were at his side by choice.   
  
Suddenly, however, the whole moment was ruined by a chilling voice that drawled, it seemed, forever. Hermione's head shot up from Harry's shoulder and they both stiffened, eyes wide with surprise, too shocked to turn around and see whom it was.   
  
"How wise. A slumber party in the middle of Malfoy Manor."   
  


- - -

  
  
"Well," Ginny broke the silence.   
  
Draco was still staring into the air, clearly thinking deeply about something.   
  
Ginny coughed a bit. "Well," she said a bit louder. "I… I, uh… I guess we ought to, uh—"   
  
Draco finally spoke again. "Before we do anything, I need to change my shirt."   
  
"What?" Ginny blurted out. "I know we're at your house and all, but all you can think of now is to change your shirt?"   
  
"Yes," Draco said simply.   
  
He slowly began getting up, unconsciously using Ginny's shoulders for support.   
  
"Where're you going?" She asked, still confused.   
  
"To my room," Draco said as if it were the most obvious answer to her question.   
  
"For a shirt," Ginny said flatly.   
  
"I believe we've already had this discussion." With that, Draco began to casually walk away and Ginny could only stare. When he got to the entrance of the dungeon room they were in, Draco turned around and looked at her. "You're coming, aren't you?"   
  
"To your room?" Ginny gawked.   
  
Draco shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and raised both eyebrows in response. Ginny was still staring, so he turned back around and began walking away again. And to his pleasure, moments later he heard Ginny's delicate footsteps following after him.   
  


- - -

  
  
"My Lord—"   
  
"Not now," a deep, loud voice boomed from somewhere in the elaborately emerald office.   
  
"My Lord, _please_," Lucius Malfoy said again with more feeling.   
  
"What is it?" The voice sighed lazily.   
  
Mr. Malfoy waited to answer while a large amount of smoke materialized before him, which moments later resembled the face of the Dark Lord himself.   
  
"May I say, my Lord, how honored I am to speak with you again—"   
  
"Get to the point!" Voldemort hollered.   
  
"Right, yes, forgive me, my Lord," Malfoy trailed off. "But, the wands. Potter's stolen the wands from us."   
  
Voldemort chortled. "He can't have _stolen_ them as they were his and his friends' wands to begin with. Worry not, Lucius. There is little they can do to us _with_ their wands as opposed to _without_ their wands. Those incompetent children are tired as well! I would've let them have their wands in due time. It's the least I can do… as I _am_ going to kill them all… eventually…"   
  
"My Lord," Mr. Malfoy addressed him again. "I beg of you not to take Potter so lightly."   
  
There was an uncomfortable silence.   
  
Even within the smoke, the furrowed brows of Voldemort were apparent. "I sense there is something more you have failed to mention to me as of yet?"   
  
For the first time during the conversation, Lucius Malfoy took his eyes off Voldemort. "Your sword, my Lord," he trailed off.   
  
"What about it?"   
  
The smoke around Voldemort's head began to change into a blood red color.   
  
"It's with Potter. He took that, too."   
  
And as the words left his mouth, the large quantity of smoke before him vanished and Tom Riddle walked out from its fading form. Before Lucius Malfoy could so much as greet the younger version of his Lord, a shriek that could've been heard through all the lands, had Malfoy Manor not been charmed against outside interference, was emitted from Mr. Malfoy's mouth.   
  
A sly smirk slithered across Riddle's face as he hissed again, watching the writhing form of Lucius Malfoy at his feet. "_Crucio_!"   
  


- - -

  
  
By now, Ginny was aware that Draco knew she was following him and Draco was aware that Ginny knew that he was aware that she was following him. However, they spoke not a single word through the several corridors they tiptoed along and up the innumerable spiraling staircases they ventured beyond.   
  
And after what seemed like hours, Ginny finally saw Draco stop in front of a door, not the least bit tired or exhausted from turning so many corners and directions.   
  
The door looked like all the other doors in Malfoy Manor. It was painted a dark black color—probably expensive ebony wood. The carvings on the wooden door were eccentric, macabre, and gorgeous all at once. The image on Draco's postern looked like several black crows flying through an enigmatic black night. And there seemed to be nothing special about the doorknob, as it was the shape of an ordinary doorknob, save the fact that a silver serpent with emeralds for eyes was coiled around the knob. Ginny looked about and noted that the serpents on different doorknobs were coiled around the knobs in different fashions. The one on Draco's doorknob was coiled in a simple spiral form around the doorknob, but the head, with the glowing green eyes, peeked out from under the knob with a most sinister look present on its face.   
  
Ginny shivered as she looked at the door and then the doorknob. Something so beautiful looked so unappealing. She closed her eyes, imagining Draco's hand reaching out for the doorknob and the snake on the doorknob uncoiling and striking his hand. She willed her eyes to open to stop the mini-nightmare and instantaneously moved closer to where Draco stood.   
  
To her relief, he didn't touch the doorknob at all. He reached for his wand, which had been haphazardly stuffed in his back pocket, and with it, touched the beaks of three specific crows. She could tell he wasn't choosing the crows at random because first he stood on tiptoe to touch a crow at the top left corner of the door, then bent down to tap the beak of a crow near the bottom, then stood up again to touch the beak of a third crow that was a little to the upper right of the doorknob.   
  
With that, Draco stepped back and Ginny blinked several times as she watched the carvings of all the crows disappear into the black door of Draco's room. When all the crows were gone, the door looked so black that Ginny felt that if someone were to lean against it, he or she would fall right through into an endless pit of darkness.   
  
She edged closer to Draco, but he didn't notice and slowly walked toward the door. He looked it up and down, examined here and there, and without a single word to her, stepped right _through_ the door!   
  
Ginny gawked. Draco was gone! He had stepped through the door! _Through_ it!   
  
Still staring with her mouth wide open, Ginny noticed the crows reappearing on the door. Panicked, she jumped after Draco, disappearing into the darkness.   
  
Just as her form had vanished into the door, all the crows immediately reappeared and all was back to normal… or so it seemed.   
  
The serpent on Draco's doorknob slithered so slowly and so stealthily that a person staring straight at the doorknob might not have noticed. And in a minute's time, the snake's head now rested on top of the doorknob—its eyes wide open, now revealing two crimson red rubies for eyes.   
  


- - -

  
  
Harry and Hermione sat so rigidly in shock that their forms didn't even shake as their insides shivered with fright.   
  
Then, gathering all his courage, Harry suddenly sprang up from where he sat, wand in hand, and proceeded in shouting out the first spell that came to mind. "Riddikul—!"   
  
However, the enemy was prepared for Harry. "Expelliarmus! Petrificus totalus!"   
  
Hermione screamed as the force of both spells caused Harry's body to be catapulted to the opposite wall. He lay still and petrified on the floor after he hit the wall.   
  
Then Hermione's eyes widened and her jaw dropped in shock when she saw who it was. "Professor _Snape_?" Of all people, it was clear that he was the last person she expected to see at that very moment. But when Hagrid rounded the corner, followed by Dumbledore, she took back that thought.   
  
"Professor! What've ye done ta 'Arry?" Hagrid growled.   
  
Snape looked down at Harry's petrified form with narrowed eyes filled to the rims with dislike. He pocketed Harry's wand, folded his arms and tried to hide a smirk as he muttered almost inaudibly, "I've always wanted to do that."   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes at that. _How immature! Is he_ still_ angry that Harry's "Expelliarmus" spell from third year knocked him out?_   
  
Dumbledore stepped through the space between Hagrid and Snape and waved his large, purple wand about. "Finite incantatem."   
  
Hermione saw Harry blink and weakly stare aghast at the three professors before him. "_Snape_?" He finally gaped.   
  
"That was my first thought, too," is what Hermione was about to say, but Dumbledore quickly cut in.   
  
"_Professor_ Snape," the wrinkled headmaster corrected as he smiled and bent down to help Harry to his feet.   
  


- - -

  
  
Ginny was about to scream, but she suddenly landed on the floor of the other side of the "darkness". She lay on her stomach since she had more _leapt_ than _stepped_ through the door.   
  
"That was a stupid thing to do," Draco said offhandedly.   
  
"As if I should've known that stepping through some… some freaky door… _thing_ was going to take me to your room! Sure, it could've been somewhat understandable at any other house, but this is _your_ house. Your _father's_ house."   
  
Ginny quickly got back on her feet. It baffled her that the mere atmosphere of Draco's room made it feel okay to talk again.   
  
"Well, we're safe in here for now," Draco said as he casually walked over to his closet.   
  
Ginny watched Draco open the closet door. Most of Draco's shirts were button-up dress shirts, most of which were black or dark colors. Feeling a bit awkward, she spotted Draco's large four-poster bed pushed against the far wall of the large room; she walked over to it and quietly sat, observing Draco finger through his clothing items.   
  
Draco parted the shirts at one section of his wardrobe and pulled out a long-sleeved emerald dress shirt. He held it at arm's length, tilting his head a little while he examined it with a slight frown on his face. Finally satisfied, he hung it on the door of the closet and went back to fingering through the clothes. In the same fashion, he parted the clothes somewhere in the middle of the hung clothes and pulled out another shirt that looked just like the first, except this one was a dark red color.   
  
Draping both shirts over his right arm, Draco walked over to where Ginny was sitting. "Here," he said, holding the emerald shirt out to Ginny.   
  
She stared at it.   
  
Annoyed, Draco dropped the shirt into her lap.   
  
"What do you want me to do with it?" She asked at last.   
  
"Wear it," Draco said, rolling his eyes.   
  
Ginny stared at the shirt. "Why?" She asked, completely confused. "And _why_, may I ask, of all colors, did you have to pick out green for me—" she looked at his arm. "—And red for you? It's a bit ironic, isn't it?"   
  
"Nothing about this is _ironic_, Weasley." Draco took off his already unbuttoned, bloody shirt and discarded it on the floor. He stood in front of Ginny with his bare chest as he took his red shirt off the hanger it was on. He didn't notice Ginny look him over, gulp, and scoot back a bit more on the bed. "The green shirt is smaller than the red one. They both fit me, but if you insist on me color-coordinating us, then you're more than welcome to drown in this shirt." Draco said as he swung it around his back and allowed both his arms to slide through the sleeve-lengths.   
  
After Draco had finished buttoning his shirtfront, Ginny only said, "Oh." She thought she'd wait for him to tuck in his shirt before she said anything more, but he left his shirt untucked.   
  
"What?" Draco asked, staring at Ginny oddly.   
  
Ginny mouthed wordlessly for a bit, "Well... well, don't _look_ at me!" She yelled.   
  
Draco furrowed his eyebrows and took a step backward, slightly confused. "I thought you didn't want my shirt."   
  
Ginny got up, furiously pushing Draco away. She didn't even know the geography of Draco's room, nor where she was pushing him to, but she pushed anyway. "Don't _look_!"   
  
Draco finally turned around and placed his weight on his legs to stop Ginny from pushing him any further. "My God! Just rip my head off and spit in my neck, why don't you? If you'd just _asked_, I would've turned around—see?" Draco turned his back to Ginny and crossed his arms over his chest.   
  
After a few moments of not hearing any movements behind him, Draco took a tiny peek at what Ginny was doing…which was nothing. He turned back around. "Why aren't you changing? We haven't got all our lives or all day, mind you!"   
  
"Get out." Ginny said simply, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.   
  
"Of the room?" Draco asked aghast. "Of _my_ room?"   
  
"Yes," Ginny answered as though it was obvious that he ought to leave the room.   
  
"I already told you I wasn't going to look!"   
  
"I don't _care_ what you _told_ me! Get out!" Ginny ordered.   
  
Draco sighed and put a hand to his temple. "Fine. Go in the closet. Close the door and take as bloody long as you want."   
  
Ginny's face had been crinkled from the expression she had been making, but seeing sense in Draco's idea, the muscles on her face relaxed. She looked at the closet door, then nodded at Draco in approval. "I'll only be a minute." She gave him a small smile and went into the closet.   
  
As the door closed, Draco grumbled to himself and sat on the bed where Ginny had previously been positioned. "Even _Gryffindor_ women are intolerable!" He huffed. "Not that that ought to be surprising." And he then put his head in his hand as he looked at his reflection on the black tile floor.   
  
"I imagine they _are_ intolerable... women…"   
  
Startled, Draco looked up, his platinum bangs flying through the air as he did so. _That voice…_   
  
Draco turned around and felt all his muscles tighten when he saw Tom Riddle standing in front of his door. He kicked himself internally for having forgotten to set the crows back to normal on the door after he'd entered his room.   
  
"Draco," Riddle hissed, elongating the vowels in his name. "After what I'd sent Miss Zabini out to do, I thought our meetings might've been… _punctured_." A long, thin smile curved along the bottom half of his face. "I guess not." He said lightly as he walked over to Draco. "Which is good… my fellow—"   
  
Draco narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"   
  
"Don't be so demanding, my boy! Your well being _is_ at my will, I'll have you know. As I'm quite sure you know… just as you know other things." Riddle ended the statement as if it were a question.   
  
"You're mad," Draco said through clenched teeth.   
  
"Oh, I know. _So_ terribly mad. But still, you knew that. Just as you know where… the Weasley girl is?" He stretched out the first syllable of Ginny's last name.   
  
"Like I'd let _her_ hang around me," Draco scoffed.   
  
The smile on Riddle's face faded and he brought his face close to Draco's. "Do you _lie_ to me, boy?"   
  
Draco's mouth was a thin line on his face and his gray eyes were on fire.   
  
"You know where she is," Riddle said.   
  
Draco then tried to move away from Tom Riddle but found he couldn't. It was as if the muscles in his body had all been frozen.   
  
"I can see it in your eyes." And as Riddle said that, the small head of a snake with curiously crimson red eyes slithered out from under Tom Riddle's cloak and now sat on Riddle's shoulder, its neck stretched to where it was only a centimeter away from the center of Draco's neck. Draco could feel himself sweating and his heart racing.   
  
"I'll ask again," Riddle said more lazily. "Do you know where the girl is—?" Draco wasn't listening; he was eyeing the snake. "_Don't_ mind the snake. He won't strike unless ordered to do so." Riddle waved his hand and Draco felt a slight tension relieved from his body; he could use his muscles again. "The girl?"   
  
Draco slowly began backing away, but after one step, then two, then three, he saw that the snake would always adjust itself so it was just a centimeter away from striking. Still eyeing the snake, Draco stuttered, "I…I…I've no idea. I've no idea where she is." Draco answered, keeping his voice steady to satisfy himself rather than Riddle.   
  
Then something wet and slippery touched Draco's neck. He knew it was the snake. He felt its long, skinny body creep around the nape of his neck ever so slowly. Now its whole body was out of Riddle's robes, its head resting on Draco's right shoulder as the rest of the snake's body hung from Draco as a scarf might.   
  
"You're quite sure?" A sinister grin spread over Riddle's face.   
  
Draco was breathing hard. He knew if his next answer didn't please Tom Riddle, the snake would most likely strike. So, without thought, Draco grabbed the snake's tail and began to swing it around his head, pleased to see Riddle back away. However, when he saw that the tail-end of the snake had transformed into its head and its head had transformed into its tail, therefore making the snake's vexed head be in Draco's fist, Draco yelled and flung it at Riddle.   
  
The man screamed and as he used his wand to subdue the oncoming snake, Draco quickly grabbed his own wand from his back pocket. Nostrils flared and intentions set, he hollered, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"   
  
Ginny was hearing everything from where she stood in the closet, but at hearing that, her heart sank.   
  
Riddle's eyes widened as they focused on the tip of Draco's wand. There was a sudden flash of light, and then… nothing…   
  
**Author's Note:** Yay! I ended this chapter exactly like Erika (ugahill) ended chapter 6 of _In the Shadows_! Though no one really ought to care if Riddle dies or not… but that's not what's important here. Will Draco become a murderer? Or will Riddle have some odd Dark Lord-ish way to get out of this fix? -cue collective gasping- Duh, you have to wait for the next chapter to find out! And I suppose the chapter title fits quite well with what I've left you with. Unless you know me, you're not quite sure if I ship H/Hr or R/Hr _and_ no one's quite sure what's going on with Draco, hence the chapter title, _Clear As Mud_… since mud isn't that clear. -laughs- Go me for lamely creative titles!!   
  
Also, I will be roaming Europe (including London, England! Go Harry Potter! -waves flags-) for a good portion of June and the last bit of May, so DINB18 may come out a bit later than usual. But can ya blame me?! ;) EUROPE!!   
  
**Chapter 18:** Of course, we'll have to find out what happens in our Draco/Riddle mini-duel and how that does or does not affect Ginny. Also, the Harry/Hermione/Ron issue isn't _quite_ settled, as Ron's still unconscious and there _may_ be some wild teenage hormones flying about! We'll see!   
  
Yay! Thanks to my lovely reviewers: **ugahill**, **bigreader**, **Jonah**, **Spinn**, **Eiko**, and **Grace**. Yall're kewwwl and keep the wheels churnin'!! ;) 


	18. The Vision

**Chapter 18: The Vision**   
  
Ginny had had her eyes closed tight, but they were wide open as she heard Draco's voice shout the death curse. Her hand had instinctively gone straight to the doorknob, but she was still shocked that he hadn't even wavered—not even a stutter could be heard in his voice.   
  
Was he still that ruthless? So cold, heartless, and emotionless to be able to spout off the death curse just like that? He seemed like a normal teenage boy just moments ago and when Riddle had first entered the room, he had protected her. He had lied for her. A valiant move, indeed, but she wasn't going to stay hidden in this closet if it meant Draco would become a murderer…because of her.   
  
She turned the knob. "Draco, no—you can't!"   
  
She saw Draco gasp and turn to look at her and Ginny was taken aback. Not by the stunning gray eyes that were burning holes into her head right now—not by the look of grief and anger present on Draco's countenance—not even the fact that he was shaking all over… none of that surprised her. It was almost as if she expected all that from Draco, but what _did_ surprise her was what she saw when she looked at Riddle.   
  
She'd never actually seen a victim of the death curse and she had never felt compelled to find out what the aftereffects of the death curse might be. Unlike her imagination, Riddle was not a pile of simmering ashes on the floor, nor was he completely gone and disintegrated. Nothing from her wildest thoughts and dreams could have prepared her for this, for Riddle, at this very moment, stood before her, as did Draco—save Riddle looked quite confident and unstilted.   
  
A sly smirk slithered its way across Riddle's face. "Well, well, well, little Malfoy," Tom Riddle's eyes flicked toward Draco. "Were we telling a little white lie?"   
  
Ginny saw Draco's body become tense; he was breathing hard.   
  
Riddle had been walking toward Draco, but suddenly straightened up and started to speak again. "You know," he began. "They always _did_ say a little white lie could never really…_hurt_."   
  
Ginny felt a chill run up her spine at the way he spoke. Riddle wasn't even concerned that a death curse had been aimed toward him and the fact that it hadn't killed him seemed to be opaque to him. She saw Draco close his eyelids; he was biting a corner of his upper lip.   
  
Riddle suddenly swished his wand toward the door to Draco's room and a click was heard.   
  
He smiled a ghost of a smile.   
  
They were locked in. It would all end here.   
  


- - - - -

  
  
"So," Harry said in utter bewilderment. "So, you, Professor Dumbledore… you and Professor Snape and Hagrid—you've all been here this whole time as well?"   
  
"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said as he peered down at Harry over his half-moon spectacles. "I believe you've got it correct."   
  
Harry mouthed wordlessly and finally let out a flabbergasted, "Why?!"   
  
Harry and Dumbledore stood facing one another, speaking. Hermione sat on the floor watching them—her lap was being used as a pillow for Ron and Snape was turned the other way preparing some sort of potion, with Hagrid's help, that would supposedly get rid of the Vipertooth venom in Ron's body.   
  
Dumbledore gave Harry a warm smile. "I'm not quite sure, Harry." The old headmaster looked up at the ceiling and scratched his head. "No, I'm not really that sure of what we're doing here _now_, but I'm about five-eighths certain that you, Ms. Granger, and Mr. Weasley, were he awake, prefer it this way as opposed to wandering, or rather dozing, in Malfoy Manor all by yourselves?"   
  
Still a bit confused, Harry nodded at his eccentric headmaster. "Yes, you're right, Professor." He gave him a meek smile.   
  
"Potter!"   
  
Harry jumped at hearing Snape's voice.   
  
"Get over here now, Potter. Any time this millenium would be nice."   
  
Harry hurried to Snape's side.   
  
"Sit," Snape ordered.   
  
Harry did so, sitting on his knees, but Snape put a hand on Harry's shoulder and pushed Harry's hind end all the way to the floor.   
  
"Roll up your sleeves," the Professor growled.   
  
"Both of them?" Harry asked a bit uncertainly.   
  
Snape gritted his teeth and turned to look at Harry. "If I had wanted _both_ sleeves rolled up, I would've _told_ you to roll up both sleeves!"   
  
Harry quickly and silently rolled up both his sleeves nonetheless, as he was still somewhat confused.   
  
First, Snape took a set of thick tweezers and plucked out a random bunch of hairs.   
  
Harry screamed aloud and drew his arms away, cradling the arm from which the hairs had been plucked. "What're you _doing_?"   
  
"I need some of the dragon blood," Snape explained. "The blood on your skin is too dry now, so I took your hair since blood doesn't dry as quick on hair and even _if_ it dries, the blood encases a strand of hair, therefore preserving much more blood than the surface of your skin." The professor turned back around to his bubbling potion and sprinkled in Harry's arm hairs.   
  
"If you needed hair, why couldn't you get it off my head? It's not like I don't have enough and it wouldn't have hurt so much!" Harry whined.   
  
"I know." Snape smirked as he continued working.   
  
Harry silently cursed the Potions Master.   
  
Then, without a moment's notice, Snape turned around, a crucible in his hand. From the dish, he poured a thick black tar over Harry's right arm.   
  
"What—?!"   
  
Before Harry could say much of anything, Snape hastily set the crucible down, grabbed Harry's other arm and put the fingers of that arm into the cold tar. "Rub this into your skin," Snape instructed.   
  
Harry wrinkled his nose. "Why? So the enemy can smell us out?"   
  
Snape glared. "The venom of a Vipertooth dragon is poisonous, Mr. Potter. What makes you think the blood wouldn't be? If you rub that into your skin," he said, addressing the tar-like mixture, "it will enter your bloodstream through the pores of your skin and take care of whatever blood seeped into your bloodstream as the blood dried on your skin."   
  
This made Harry rub the solution into his hands quicker. The quicker he rubbed, the quicker the black tar began disappearing into his skin. "But why do you need the blood on my hair for Ron's potion then? You're planning on making him swallow that stuff, aren't you? Why do—?"   
  
Snape's head whirled around, his greasy hair flying through the wind in large clumps and then sticking to his face when he stopped turning.   
  
Sensing unwanted drama, Hermione used her small and witty voice to explain. "The blood of the Vipertooth is a weakened form of the poison present in the dragon's venom. Like antibiotics in the muggle world, you need a weakened form of a virus of some sort to help your immune system defend against the bacteria and whatnot."   
  
"Oh, bravo Ms. Granger!" Dumbledore beamed.   
  
Whatever snide remark Snape was about to make was stifled for now at hearing Dumbledore's comment.   
  
There was an awkward silence, which didn't last long since Hagrid's knee had bumped some of the content Snape had set around the cauldron that Ron's potion was simmering in.   
  
"You great oaf!" Snape yelled, turning his attention back to the potion.   
  
"I didn't mean ta! Jus' jostled it a bit! Saved ye some mixin' 's all!"   
  
Ron suddenly coughed in his sleep and Hermione slightly repositioned his head on her lap.   
  
Snape glowered as he began counting the bottles and piles of ingredients. He looked up angrily at Hagrid. "We're one ingredient short, _Hagrid_. Where is the extra bezoar stone that was here, _Hagrid_?"   
  
It was quite clear Snape suspected that Hagrid had knocked the stone into the cauldron and it was also clear that Snape was trying not to lose his temper since Albus Dumbledore stood next to him at the moment.   
  
"Now, now, let's not lose our heads about this," Dumbledore chuckled. "I believe a bezoar stone is to save victims of poison? So it really shouldn't be a problem."   
  
"Professor?" Hermione inquired. "What if it's like muggle medicines then?"   
  
Dumbledore scratched his white head. "Would you care to clarify what you mean, Ms. Granger? My memory of all the muggle ways isn't its best at my age." He laughed.   
  
Hermione didn't return his humor. "Professor, in the muggle world, no matter how good a medicine is for whatever disease or sickness, having too much can—" Hermione was trying to find an elegant way of putting it, but finally ended with, "can be bad."   
  
A wave of fear swept over Harry.   
  
"Ah, yes, I remember that, Ms. Granger. Very clever of you to mention it! Very clever, indeed! But this is the wizarding world, Ms. Granger, and as I'm quite sure you know, it is the same as the muggle world _and_ different from the muggle world." Hermione gave a slight nod at this and Dumbledore turned to Snape. "Severus, go ahead and administer the potion to Mr. Weasley."   
  
"Headmaster—"   
  
Hagrid gave a loud sob.   
  
"_Headmaster_!" Snape said over Hagrid's weeping. "I could just conjure up more ingredients and make another batch."   
  
Dumbledore peered at Snape in a curious way, his eyes twinkling even in the dim light of Malfoy Manor. "How wise do you think that would be, Severus? I hope you haven't forgotten that we're two people short this mission. We needn't waste time."   
  
Still hesitant, Snape turned back to the potion and conjured a cup into his hands with his wand. He poured the brew so the glass was half full; the drink was a rancid green color. He walked on his knees, knelt next to Hermione, and began to tip the contents of the cup into Ron's open mouth, but even before a single drop of the potion had entered Ron's mouth, Ron's eyes suddenly snapped open and looked around wildly.   
  
Startled, Hermione screamed and Harry was instantly on his knees beside his best friend.   
  
"Ron! You're awake! How do you feel?" Harry touched his arm instinctively but then drew his hand away.   
  
Ron was shivering, maybe even convulsing, all over.   
  
"Professor!" Harry said, hoping either of the three adults before him would answer. "Professor, what's wrong with him?"   
  
Hagrid stared with an open jaw, Dumbledore looked as though he was analyzing the situation as he stroked his chin and Snape was the first to say anything.   
  
"Mr. Weasley," Snape addressed Ron.   
  
Still shivering, Ron looked to where he'd heard the voice and his eyes widened in horror. "Sn-sn-snape!" He cried. "Honest! I didn't mean to put your whole bathroom upside-down! It was Gred and—" Ron coughed—"Fred and George who put the toilet on the ceiling!"   
  
Snape gritted his teeth at the memory of having woken up in the middle of the night sometime last month by nature's call and the surprise of going into his bathroom to find all the contents of the room on the ceiling. It had taken him two days to find the reversal spell, but some odd stains that he couldn't get rid of were still on the ceiling.   
  
"Mr. Weasley, I've prepared this tonic for you. It'll help you feel better." Snape used his hand to pry Ron's jaw open. "Take it," he ordered in his stoic voice.   
  
"No!" Ron cried. "I'll get the twins to reverse your bathroom! Just stop the visions! P-p-please!"   
  
Terror gripped Harry's insides and when he looked at Hermione, he wasn't sure if Ron's shivering was making her shake as well or if she, too, was trembling.   
  
Harry waited for Snape to administer the potion to Ron, but Professor Dumbledore suddenly shoved Snape aside, probably unintentionally, and placed his ear close to Ron.   
  
"Visions?" Dumbledore asked in a whisper. "What kind of visions, Mr. Weasley?"   
  
Ron didn't say anything.   
  
"Ron!" Hermione cried aloud. "Ron! What visions are you seeing? Tell us, Ron!"   
  
Harry felt a lump in his throat and he felt very close to being sick at seeing Ron in such a state. His best friend was covered in a thin film of sweat, convulsing every now and then, and was having visions?! Harry felt himself slowly back away from Hermione, Ron and Dumbledore.   
  
_Who _cares_ what Ron's visions are?_ Harry thought. _ Why can't Dumbledore or Snape or whoever just give Ron the potion? He has a brain—he can remember the stupid vision and tell them about it _after _he's back to normal and cured from the Vipertooth poison!_   
  
Dumbledore turned away. "Oh dear," he whispered. "He's not responding… this can't be goo—"   
  
"Ginny!" Ron rasped.   
  
And at this, even Harry forgot his previous thoughts to turn to Ron, as did everyone within the small group.   
  
"He knows where Draco and Ginny are!" Hermione gasped.   
  
With renewed hope, Dumbledore turned back to Ron. "Mr. Weasley, do you see Draco Malfoy and your sister? Can you see where they are?"   
  
"Ginny!" Ron whispered again, now shivering even more than before.   
  
"Do you see Mr. Malfoy?" Snape growled between his teeth.   
  
Dumbledore placed a hand on Snape's shoulder, silently asking him to control his temper.   
  
"No! Ginny!" Ron cried again.   
  
Harry and Hermione exchanged worried looks.   
  


- - - - -

  
  
"So," Riddle gave Draco a sly grin. "You kept her in your _closet_?" He turned to Ginny and eyed her. "Nice. Even if she _is_ a Gryffindor."   
  
Draco tried to remain impassive, but he kept staring where Riddle was staring—at Ginny. She stared back with wide eyes, filled with questions and flooded with terror.   
  
"Leave her out of this!" Draco yelled, clenching his fists.   
  
Riddle turned to look at Draco now. "And what if I don't? Will you try to _kill_ me again?" He laughed.   
  
Draco gripped his wand harder. "I _will_ kill you and you know it. I am a Malfoy—a potential Death Eater! And you think I won't utter the death curse to end your pathetic existence?"   
  
"That silver tongue of yours has never been very good to you, young Malfoy—"   
  
"Expelliarmus!" Draco shouted.   
  
Caught off guard, Riddle was thrown onto Draco's bed as his wand flew into Draco's hand. Draco put the wand in his back pocket. He leveled his wand. "I won't hesitate to administer the death curse."   
  
Riddle was already up. "You've already hesitated," he scoffed.   
  
Draco felt his fingers tighten around his wand.   
  
Before Draco or Ginny could do anything, Riddle had reached into his robes and pulled out another wand. "Expelliarmus!"   
  
Draco held onto his wand tightly as the effects of Riddle's spell threw him into the wall, but the wand he'd stuffed into his back pocket shot into the air and flew toward Riddle.   
  
Riddle caught the wand and now aimed both wands at Draco. But then he turned and before Draco could do anything, "Petrificus Totalus!"   
  
Draco watched as Ginny's surprised face froze and she fell to the floor with a thud.   
  
"Leave her out of this!" Draco yelled. "She has nothing to do with this!"   
  
Riddle fired both his wands and Draco dodged the oncoming spells just in time. When he looked up, there was a large hole in the wall where the spells had hit. He could see outside; it was raining.   
  
"She has _everything_ to do with this—"   
  
Draco had fired a spell at Riddle and it caught the edge of Riddle's robes. He tore the burning cape off and threw it out the hole in the wall.   
  
"Impressive," Riddle said, surprised that he hadn't hit Draco yet.   
  
Waiting for the next spell, Draco was almost caught off guard when Riddle threw his wand at him. But he'd seen this one before. Just as the wand turned into a knife in mid-air, Draco jumped aside and landed on the marble floor on his shoulder. But immediately, he shouted aloud; the knife had nicked his upper arm.   
  
Draco scrambled back to his feet, strengthening his grip on his wand once more, but Riddle had backed him into a wall now—this duel would be over soon.   
  
Draco looked over Riddle's shoulder and saw Ginny had begun to stir. The petrifaction spell was beginning to wear off. _Good_, Draco thought.   
  
Focusing back on the battle at hand, Draco tried to think of anything he could do. He caught a flash of light at the corner of his eye and when he turned, he realized it was the knife Riddle had thrown at him. He pulled it out of the wall and began jabbing at Riddle. Riddle parried all his blows, but always moved in such a way that Draco was still against the wall. They moved throughout the room like that for what seemed like hours and Draco wondered why Riddle hadn't fired a spell at him yet—he was backed against the wall! What was he waiting for? But seconds later, Draco realized almost too late what Riddle had been doing. As Draco moved throughout the room, his back against the wall, he suddenly felt the wall behind him disappear. There was a rush of cool air and rain, and he staggered backward into the night. _The hole in the wall!_ He now realized what Riddle had in mind.   
  
Draco immediately sensed the precipice behind him—a hundred-foot drop to the ground below, and was only able to take a step forward to lengthen his distance from the dimming day behind him.   
  
Riddle wasted no time. With a violent surge, he lunged. Riddle's wand, now a knife, sliced toward Draco's midsection. Draco skidded back and the point came up short, catching only his shirt, but it had caused Draco to drop his wand and the knife. He watched in despair as his wand rolled away out of reach. Again the knifepoint came at him. Draco slid farther back, feeling his heels on the very edge of the remaining floor beneath him. Certain the next jab would kill him, Draco attempted the absurd. Spinning to one side, he reached out and grabbed Riddle's wand, sending a jolt of pain through the arm Riddle's knife had previously slit. Draco held on.   
  
Riddle seemed unfazed. They strained for a moment against one another, face to face, the dark wizard's breath fetid in Draco's nostrils. The wand began to slip. Riddle was too strong. In a final act of desperation, Draco stretched out his leg, dangerously off balance as he tried to ram his foot into Riddle's stomach. But Riddle swatted it out of the way.   
  
Draco had just played his final card. He knew he had lost the hand.   
  
Riddle's arms exploded upward, driving Draco back against the edge of the wall. Draco sensed nothing but empty space behind him as his buttocks slid off the wet wall behind him. Ignoring the pain in his injured arm, Draco reached out and grabbed onto the wall as a last attempt at survival.   
  
Draco looked up and saw his enemy had turned his knife into a crowbar. Riddle held the bar crosswise and drove it into Draco's chest. Draco's back arched over the chasm.   
  
Riddle sneered. "Goodbye."   
  
With a merciless glare, Riddle gave a final shove. Draco's center of gravity shifted, and his feet swung up off the floor. With only one hope of survival, Draco grabbed onto the floor as he fell over. His left hand slipped, but his right hand held on.   
  
"Why can't you just _die_?" Riddle asked through gritted teeth, clearly annoyed at Draco's efforts to live. Riddle placed a foot on Draco's hand and slowly placed more and more weight on it.   
  
Draco desperately tried to grab onto the ledge with his left hand. He swung his feet up, trying to somehow get a better grip on—on _anything_! But it was no use. Draco groaned as he began to lose the feeling in the fingers on his right hand.   
  
_Dammit! This sure is a lame way to die._   
  
And suddenly, Draco heard something. It was a voice—a voice that seemed somewhat unfamiliar, but a welcoming voice—a warming, relieving voice. He knew whom it belonged to.   
  
The voice had shouted a spell and Riddle yelled, lifting his foot off Draco's hand as the spell hit the dark wizard's back. Taking his chance, Draco finally got his left hand onto the ledge, scrambled up a bit more and now hung onto the ledge by his arms instead of by his hands. He then swung his legs up and got his left leg onto the floor; he was almost back into the room—granted he was soaking wet, but he was alive all the same. However, when he looked up, he saw Riddle being driven backwards, falling off the ledge.   
  
A fleeting moment of relief filled Draco's body, but then he saw that Riddle had grabbed onto something on his way down.   
  
Draco's eyes widened and he yelled in horror as he watched a flurry of crimson hair tumbling through the air with Riddle.   
  


- - - - -

  
  
"No! Ginny!"   
  
Then Ron suddenly became still.   
  
Dumbledore tipped Snape's potion into Ron's mouth. "The visions have ceased for now."   
  
**Author's Note:** I came back from Europe three days ago, so I finished this chapter in record time! I only hope that I've done the chapter justice even though I kind of rushed through it. =/ However, I was a _little_ excited whilst writing DINB18… a young lady named Rinoa IMed me the day I came home from Europe and sent me the link to _Deception_, a DINB fansite that she'd created! I was nothing less than absolutely thrilled, so I hope that you'll visit _Deception_ and take a look at Rinoa's hard work (she created the site in TWO days!). I can't post URLs inside the chapters, but the URL to the fansite is posted in my (Ferret2) ffNET user profile. :)   
  
**Chapter 19:** We're obviously going to find out what happens to Riddle and the "flurry of crimson hair" (I'm sure no one's figured out whom that belongs to). Then back to the Harry/Ron/Hermione/Dumbledore/Snape/Hagrid scene… and then some more action. This fic's rounding down—it's almost over!   
  
**Credits:** The part where Draco's teetering (kind of) and about to fall through the hole in the wall comes from _Angels & Demons_ by Dan Brown. It's pretty much similar to one of the ending scenes in that novel (I LOVE that novel!!) and while I was writing this, I thought of incorporating parts of it into this chapter.   
  
Yay! Many thanks to my reviewers once again: **Eiko**, **Jonah**, **bigreader**, **ugahill**, **Chrisoriented**, **Alyssa Rose**, **Spinn**, **Moogie**, **crazyfire89**, and **SMILE**. Yall are what keep the wheels churnin'! 


	19. Through the Storm

**Chapter 19: Through the Storm**  
  
"Ginny!" Draco yelled in horror. He tried to grab at the girl's descending form, but all he found between his fists was empty air. What could he do now? But suddenly, Draco remembered his dropped wand—where the bloody hell was it? After a fleeting moment of panicked searching, he cursed at finding it right next to his foot. "Wingardium leviosa!" He yelled, pointing the wand at the flurry of crimson hair before him. And though the spell stopped the now unconscious Ginny from plummeting any closer to the ground, it _also_ stopped Riddle since he had been holding on to Ginny.  
  
Draco moved his wand up and down and side to side, trying to some how shake Riddle off Ginny, but the fact remained—his levitation charm had caught either Ginny or Riddle, though which of the two, neither Draco nor Riddle could tell.  
  
"What now, little Malfoy?" Riddle called up to Draco.  
  
Draco stood his ground, holding his wand steady, but he felt his jaws tighten. It was as though his teeth wanted to tear themselves out of his gums, and when Draco opened his mouth, he cried out slightly as he cut a portion of his bottom lip. Why were his teeth so sharp? He moved a hand to his mouth and ran his fingers across his teeth and a cold wave of fear, or maybe confusion, swept over him. No wonder he'd felt like someone was trying to rip his teeth out of his mouth… his bicuspids had grown over a centimeter each and his other teeth were pointier, too!  
  
He tried to remain impassive, but his eyes were wide open in shock and the longer teeth made it feel like he had extra teeth in his mouth, preventing him from closing it.  
  
"Ah! The transformation is already taking place! In no time at all, you and I shall be kin!" A wicked smile slithered its way across Riddle's face.  
  
"Shut up!" Draco yelled through his teeth.  
  
"There's absolutely nothing you can do about it," Riddle replied as he looked at Ginny. "As long as I'm alive, you're a vampire and as long as I hold onto her, I stay alive."  
  
Draco thought about trying to shake Riddle off of Ginny again, but internally kicked himself for thinking it. What if the spell had actually caught Riddle and he ended up shaking Ginny off? She'd die and it would be his fault… his first kill. He looked back at Riddle, a hideous grin covering the majority of the dark wizard's countenance.  
  
"What now, little Malfoy?" Riddle taunted.  
  


x x x

  
  
Ron had finally stopped convulsing and sweating after the serum Snape had made for him had begun working through his body and neutralizing all the Vipertooth venom that had spread through his bloodstream.  
  
Harry gave a sigh of relief and for one of the first times in his life, silently thanked Snape. Maybe he'd send him a bottle of shampoo this Christmas.  
  
"Headmaster," Harry heard Hermione say. "What'll we be doing about Ginny and Draco?" She paused as Dumbledore turned her way. "I mean, I know we're going to _save_ them and all, but do you have a plan or any idea on how we ought to go about that, sir?"  
  
Harry realized he'd been grinning stupidly at his previous thought and quickly wiped the look off his face and internally slapped himself. How could he have been so stupid and ignorant as to forget about Ginny and Malfoy? They were still in grave danger.  
  
"_We_ are not going anywhere, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said.  
  
"What?" Harry burst out.  
  
Dumbledore pursed his lips slightly. "You, Ms. Granger, and Mr. Weasley are about to be transported back to Hogwarts. In fact, we _all_ are. We're going to the Hogwarts Infirmary."  
  
"Headmaster!" Hermione half yelled in disbelief. "Ginny! And Draco! We can't just _leave_ them here! That's absolutely absurd!"  
  
"An' Ron would boil up ta 'is pink Weasley ears if 'e e'er foun' out we lef' Ginny behin'!" Hagrid wailed.  
  
Snape was about to say something, but Dumbledore spoke first. "I know that, Hagrid, but we'll only be leaving them for a few minutes. Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Potter will stay behind at the infirmary and from there we will decide which of us comes back to the Manor to retrieve Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Weasley. We will also be able to ask the Aurors from the Ministry of Magic to help us find exactly where in the Manor Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Weasley are, therefore saving us much needed time."  
  
Harry eyed Hermione and she did the same to him. The plan made enough sense. It was better to go about this sort of thing in a calm-mannered, sensible way rather than rush into things. Harry remembered what had happened the last time that he'd rushed into something without thinking first. It had cost him the life of the person he loved most.  
  
Finally, both Harry and Hermione nodded. "Okay," Harry said.  
  
"Good. Everyone needs to find a partner." Dumbledore first instructed.  
  
Immediately, Hagrid swooped Ron's limp form into his arms. Hermione was already standing near Dumbledore, so she took a step closer to claim him as her partner as she gave Harry a sympathetic look, for he was stuck with Snape.  
  
"Potter," Snape addressed with a curt nod. It had actually looked more like he'd tried to sniff Harry, but Harry was trying not to think about it.  
  
"Now, everyone gather together," Dumbledore said next. Since he'd said it, everyone moved closer to him. "Clasp your partner's hand and please make certain you do not let go."  
  
Harry cautiously slipped his hand into Snape's. He turned to Hermione and quickly made a face like he was about to be sick. She stifled a giggle and went back to paying attention to Dumbledore.  
  
"_While_ holding onto your partner's hand, use your free hand to hold the hand of another person," Dumbledore continued.  
  
After a little bit of difficulty (Hagrid had to juggle Ron a bit), all six people were connected: Snape, Harry, Hagrid, Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore.  
  
Dumbledore began his incantation, but Harry wasn't paying attention to him. Ron had started to stir! _He's going to be okay!_  
  
Then Ron finally opened his eyes, and looked around in shock until a single thought settled in his mind. "Ginny!" He yelled. "Where's Ginny?" He tried to struggle out of Hagrid's arms.  
  
Harry saw Hermione glance at Dumbledore; the Headmaster's eyes were still closed and he was deep in concentration.  
  
The next events played out in a blur. "What's going on? Where's Ginny?" Ron yelled. Hermione tried to shush him, but then Ron jumped out of Hagrid's arms.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione cried, instinctively letting go of Dumbledore's hand. "You can't leave the circle—" Hermione stopped herself. She'd left the circle!  
  
Realizing this, Harry tried to let go of Snape's hand, but before he could, there was a flash of white light, and they were gone.  
  


x x x

  
  
"Hermio—!" The floor muffled the rest of his friend's name. Harry picked himself up and looked around—he was in the Hogwarts Infirmary…and Ron and Hermione weren't! "Ron! Hermione!" Harry whirled around and the only person he saw was Snape. "Professor! Everyone! They're gone! What happened?"  
  
"I think you _know_ what happened, Potter," Snape said in a rather annoyed tone.  
  
Harry mouthed wordlessly, completely out of breath and panicked.  
  
"Your halfwit friend," Snape said. This apparently wasn't enough explanation for Harry, so Snape restated. "Ronald Weasley broke the connection, and his little girlfriend decided to go chase after him."  
  
"Then what about Hagrid and—wait a minute! She is _not_ his girlfriend!" Harry shouted.  
  
Snape sneered. "Mr. Potter, I beg you to stay on topic."  
  
Harry gritted his teeth. "Well, we've got to go back! We _have_ to! Maybe we can get a Port Key or—no! We could Floo back to Malfoy Manor! I've _got_ to go back and save Ron and Hermione!" Harry said more to himself than to Snape.  
  
"_You_ are not going anywhere! Not by Floo, Port Key, apparition—" Snape watched a suspicious look cross Harry's face, "—or by broomstick!"  
  
Harry's mouth dropped open. "But we can't just stay here and wait! I've got to go get them! They're in Malfoy Manor, _Professor_! And what about Headmaster Dumbledore? And Hagrid? They're _in_ Malfoy Manor!" Harry yelled, stressing their current locations.  
  
"I've been to Malfoy Manor before, too, Mr. Potter."  
  
"And?" Harry asked, throwing his arms up. "What does that matter at a time like this?"  
  
Snape furrowed his eyebrows. "You can't always play hero, Potter! If you'd just use the brain in your head once in a while, things would get done _much_ quicker, you'd know that I could handle the Malfoy Manor situation better than you _ever_ could, _and_ Sirius Black would still be alive."  
  
At that, Harry's eyes were plates on his face. He was shocked that of all people, Snape had been the one to bring up the topic so blatantly. He began backing away, trying to find something to grab hold of to steady himself.  
  
"It's your fault he's dead, Potter. I blame _you_ more than I blame Lestrange! She was brought up to kill—she did her job well! And even after considering your living circumstances, you were not brought up to be stupid. At the moment I'm not quite sure _what_ you were brought up to be, but stupid is not it and just to assuage your hopes, you surely were not brought up to be the hero either."  
  
Harry felt sick to his stomach. He closed his eyes tightly, but it was as if Snape's words were burned to the backs of his eyelids; they shone like the letters that had been emitted from Tom Riddle's wand down in the Chamber of Secrets during his second year at Hogwarts. "Just shut up!" Harry stuttered. "Stop it—I'm sorry, okay?"  
  
Snape crossed his arms and walked closer to Harry. He stopped short of him and looked around. When Harry looked up at him with watery eyes, Snape shrugged. "You're sorry? You're sorry _now_? That's brilliant, Potter, but do you see anything happening?" Harry looked down as a single teardrop rolled down his cheek. "No," Snape answered for him. "No, nothing is happening, and that's because sorry doesn't fix everything. 'Sorry' means weakness, and though I despise your cocky, arrogant, and big-headed self, I know weakness is not something you seek. To repent for something you have caused—something you have done, you must _do_ more."  
  
Harry finally looked up voluntarily. Snape, the _professor_, was almost making sense now. For the longest time, he'd been _thinking_ about how he would deal with Sirius' death, but he'd never done anything about it. His voice came out as a croak at first, but it cleared as he spoke. "What do you suggest I do, Professor?"  
  
Snape narrowed his eyes and looked over his nose at Harry. "Nothing." Harry couldn't hide the look of shock on his face. Snape scoffed at Harry. "I thought something had actually penetrated through all that hair on your head, but I guess I was wrong."  
  
"But Professor! You just explained that I need to take action in order to repent for—for Sirius' death!" Harry gasped. That had been one of the first times since his fifth year that he had actually spoken Sirius' name aloud. He remembered how the name used to roll off his tongue. This time, it did just that, though it rolled off his tongue with barbed wire strung around it. He looked to Snape for assistance. It was so odd looking to Snape for _assistance_ of all things, but if he'd done it before during his fifth year, then Sir—  
  
"This is not your battle, Potter," Snape interrupted his thoughts. "You will do everyone the most help by staying out of the way. You are not the hero in this story."  
  
"But my life consists of more than one story thus far and surely has more stories to come. I _will_ be a hero," Harry said. "Someday," he then added.  
  
Snape almost smirked. "Very well," he said, satisfied for some reason. "I believe it would be the Headmaster's wish that you rest, now that you're here."  
  
Harry nodded and warily stuck out his hand to shake Snape's. He'd nearly waited for a full minute before Snape finally placed his hand in Harry's.  
  
"I'm so glad you're not in my House."  
  
Harry furrowed his brows and turned away, letting go of Snape's hand. "So am I," he muttered, taking his shirt off and fumbling with the buttons on the polyester pajamas provided by the Infirmary.  
  
As soon as everything was set, Madame Pomfrey administered a mild sleeping potion to Harry. It tasted like sauerkraut, but he drank it all the same. However, as he was drinking the potion, he caught Snape staring at him. Even without his glasses and even as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, he could tell Snape was staring at him. With one last swig, Harry downed the contents of the cup and just as he glanced back at Snape, his heart jumped. Matted, long black hair, defined jaw, black ensemble. It reminded him so much of…  
  
Harry never got to finish the thought, however, because the sleeping potion had gone into effect and the cup lay forgotten in his open hand.  
  
It was the first time in a long time he'd slept the whole night through.  
  


x x x

  
  
Draco helplessly stared down at Ginny, and since Tom was holding onto her, he was forced to stare at him, too. He ran his fingers through his hair. _What now?_ He thought desperately.  
  
But Riddle suddenly interrupted Draco's thoughts. "I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner." Draco looked down at the sinister grin across Riddle's face. "You were always such a miserable child. So quiet—always holed up in your room," he trailed off. "But I can't have a miserable vampire on my hands. And for this reason, I've found you a little playmate!"  
  
Draco's stomach lurched. There was only one other person here!  
  
Draco yelled out. "Ginny! Damn you, Weasley! Wake up!" He watched on in horror as Riddle's gaze left him and instead, focused on Ginny's neck. The dark wizard opened his mouth, revealing two rows of sharp and lethal vampire fangs.  
  
_Damn you, Weasley_, Draco thought to himself.  
  
Just as Riddle's teeth touched down on Ginny's throat, Draco released both Ginny and Riddle from his levitation charm.  
  
He would've watched the two plummet to the ground, except Draco had done the stupidest thing imaginable at that same moment.  
  
Draco had jumped out the window.  
  


x x x

  
  
Ron was panicked a moment ago, but now he could only stare at the space that Harry had been just milliseconds before. He wasn't panicked anymore… now he was confused _and_ panicked. "Hermione! Everyone's disappeared! Why are we still here? Where _are_ they?" He asked, flashing a pair of worried eyes at his friend.  
  
Hermione glared at Ron, her hands placed firmly on her hips. She reminded Ron of his mum. "We are still here and _not_ at the Hogwarts Infirmary like everyone else because you let go of Hagrid's hand during Dumbledore's incantation, and I, being equally stupid for once, just _had_ to leave the circle to come after you! It's your fault we're still here!"  
  
"What?" Ron asked, flabbergasted. "You mean we were all going to get whooshed away to Hogwarts while Ginny was still here? In Malfoy Manor? How totally _not_ sensible! And how was I supposed to know we were in some incantating apparition circle?" Ron hollered. "I'm _glad_ I left the circle. And it's your own stupid fault that you came after me." He turned away from her and crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron! I hope you haven't forgotten Malfoy is still here, too! We have to rescue him, too!"  
  
"I know he's still here," Ron retorted. "But he _lives_ here. How brave of us to come all this way to 'save' him by taking him away from his own house!" He'd turned back around now and was scowling at Hermione.  
  
"Ron! You know _quite_ well that Malfoy isn't safe anymore in his own home and that's why we've come for both Malfoy _and_ Ginny. So would you please stop talking now? We need to get back to Hogwarts."  
  
Ron mouthed wordlessly. "You go on and on about saving people, but you still want to leave Ginny behind and—"  
  
"Ginny and Malfoy!" Hermione corrected.  
  
"Fine! You want to leave Ginny and _Malfoy_ behind? You just want to frolic back to Hogwarts now?"  
  
"If you'd been conscious to hear Dumbledore's initial plan, we were to return to the Hogwarts Infirmary where we would regain our strength, consult Aurors about Ginny and Draco's exact locations—"  
  
"_Draco_?" Ron spat out. "What? Are you going to marry him now? A Gryffindor marrying a Slytherin? Since when have you been on a first-name basis with him? Exactly how long was I knocked out?" He scoffed.  
  
"Ron! Would you just shut up?" Hermione screamed. She was so frustrated it looked as though her hair was standing on end.  
  
"I'll do whatever I want, not what you want," Ron sniffed with nothing else to say.  
  
There was an odd silence.  
  
"Thank you," Hermione said, satisfied. "Anyway, we need to find a way back to Hogwarts."  
  
"No, we need to find Ginny." Ron saw Hermione's lips twitch and he threw up his hands. "Ginny and Malfoy! Jeez! We need to find them both before we do anything, and I don't care what you say."  
  
Ron watched Hermione think to herself for a minute before she finally said, "Fine."  
  
Shocked, Ron questioned her. "What? You don't want to go back to Hogwarts anymore?"  
  
"Well, I _do_ want to go back, but I've been thinking of spells, charms, and enchantments and can't seem to think of anything powerful enough to get us past the Manor's tight security and all the way back to Hogwarts. It'd be easier if we weren't in range of the Manor's security, but I have no idea how far the spells and charms around the Manor extend out, so it would be a grand waste of time to go scouting the outskirts of the Manor with only half our strength. So since we can't exactly find a way back, might as well make our time useful by finding Ginny and _Malfoy_." Ron only stared at her. "So lead the way, Diviner."  
  
"What're you going on about?" Ron asked, baffled at how Hermione had addressed him.  
  
"Well, you're a Diviner," Hermione said matter-of-factly.  
  
"I know, you already told me," Ron rolled his eyes.  
  
Hermione bit her bottom lip. "Don't you remember your vision? You were yelling and screaming, throwing your arms and legs about, and shaking all over the place. And the only thing you'd keep shouting was Ginny's name."  
  
Ron felt as though all his organs had come detached and had dropped to the bottom of his stomach. _Ginny!_ He couldn't remember having had any visions at all! However, he hid his concern and worry from Hermione. "Er… oh! _Those_ visions!" Ron exclaimed, laughing nervously. "Why didn't you say you meant _those_ visions?"  
  
Hermione smiled a bit uncertainly. "So, you kind of remember where we ought to go to look for Ginny?"  
  
"Yeah!" Ron said, as if it was quite clear in his mind.  
  
"Okay," Hermione sounded a bit more certain now. "Lead the way, Diviner." She smiled at him.  
  
Ron gave her a squeamish grin before proceeding down the corridor.  
  
He had absolutely no idea where he was going.  
  


x x x

  
  
Though Draco's airtime only lasted about five seconds, he felt everything happen in slow motion.  
  
The moment his feet had left the stability of his room, he felt the rain outside hit the nape of his neck and slowly begin to dampen his hair, his shirt, then the skin under his shirt. Though it was rather humid outside, the terror of the whole situation had him feeling bitingly cold.  
  
Draco stretched out his arms and extended his fingers, letting his wand fall to the ground in doing so. He yelled as he approached the figures of Tom and Ginny. Riddle's eyes bugged out; it seemed he had just realized that he was falling to the ground. Draco knew Riddle would try to put Ginny's body between his body and the ground, so as soon as Draco had a firm grip on Riddle's shirt, he grabbed Ginny and flung her on top of him.  
  
The three people landed on the ground in a sandwich with Tom on the bottom, then Draco, then Ginny.  
  
Draco could only hear the thundering of rain from overhead, growing ever louder. His head spun as he rolled Ginny's body off his back. She was still unconscious, but looked fine otherwise. And as he turned to look at Riddle, he realized why he was so dizzy. Draco's right leg was bent in an abnormal fashion; it was broken. Other than that, he could feel a large bruise on his elbow, but when he caught sight of Riddle, his injuries were nothing compared to the dark wizard's. Riddle's eyes were closed and he almost looked as though he was in a peaceful slumber, save the rivers of blood gushing out of his cracked skull.  
  
A wave of relief swept over Draco. He tried to ignore the wave of nausea that accompanied it. _I killed Tom Riddle?_ Draco thought in disbelief. He would've liked to give a mad sort of laugh at that, but his head hurt too much to do such a thing now and besides, no one conscious was around to see him in his glory.  
  
He looked up at the rain. _This is really bad for my hair_, he thought to himself. When he looked down, he spotted his wand sticking out erect from a muddy mound of dirt near a tree just out of reach. He slid over to it, his bones screaming in agony as he did so, and pulled the wand out, wiping it clean on his soggy robes. He pocketed the wand and slid closer to the tree until he was propped up in a sitting position against it. Then he bent towards Ginny, caught hold of her shoulder and slowly pulled her next to him. The rain wasn't so bad under the tree.  
  
Draco ran his fingers through his hair, too tired to worry about his dirty fingernails. _At least the worst of it's all over_, he thought to himself. He looked over at Riddle again—how he lay sprawled on the ground on his back. Before, he had tried to avoid looking at Riddle's face, but curiosity got the best of him. Draco directed his gaze to Tom's face, and when he did, Draco got the shock of his life.  
  
Riddle's eyes had suddenly snapped open.  
  
**Author's Note:** I know, I know, it took long enough for me to get this chapter up, but I had an uninvited guest… _writer's block_! But since I finally got chapter 19 up, it means the uninvited guest has left! Yay! And in doing so, I leave you with yet another cliffhanger…kind of. But be glad! My initial plan was to just leave you with Draco (and Tom and Ginny) in midair! At least they're on the ground now! XD Also, the scene between Snape and Harry MAY seem uncanon to some of you, but honestly, it's _my_ sort of canon. I believe Snape is a good guy, even though he's rather mean to Harry & co., so I had to have that little excerpt in there with Snape being the wise one that helps Harry out. So after reading that scene, it means Harry's kinda out for the rest of the fic. My plan is to end everything by chapter 20, so one more to go! It's been phun!  
  
**Chapter 20:** Like I said, this will be the last chapter of DINB, so everything will be resolved. Er… enough said? ;  
  
Lastly, thanks again to all my wonderful reviewers! Fic writers thrive on reviews and reviewers, and I'm proud to say that mine are the best: **bigreader**, **Eiko**, **Jonah**, **Trinity**, **Spinn**, **Lisa**, **PrincessGreenleaf66**, **Caroline**, and **crazyfire89**. 


	20. Eternity

**Chapter 20: Eternity**  
  
Draco's muscles tensed. He used wet, shaky fingers to rub his eyes before looking at Riddle again. The dark wizard blinked and smiled.  
  
"You're supposed to be dead!" The boy finally cried out. "You have a _hole_ in your head!" Draco's eyes were bulging as he pointed at Riddle.  
  
Then Riddle slowly moved his arms out from the mud and sat up. "Do I look dead to you, little Malfoy?"  
  
"Damn! Why can't you just _die_?" Draco hollered.  
  
Riddle looked up through the rain at the hole in the Manor that they'd fallen from. "Why can't _you_?" He retorted.  
  
Draco gritted his teeth and tried to think things through calmly. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't let Ginny get hurt… which wasn't going well so far. He glanced at Ginny again; she looked wet, dirty, tired, cold, and strangely, at peace. Draco envied her for that. She was so pure, so unmarred…so unlike himself—a cold, hard piece of ice. It'd be the death of her if the fire inside her ever went out. She'd become like him, and fire and ice were never meant to be because one would terminate the other and vice versa. It was already happening and Draco could see it. Nothing this drastic would ever have happened to Ginny Weasley if she hadn't been with him. He was terminating her.  
  
But still, a Malfoy never breaks a true promise—not even a promise to himself, and he'd promised himself that no matter what, he'd prevent Ginny from getting hurt as he'd seen in his dream.  
  
Draco gripped his wand hard.  
  
"Tut, tut, little Malfoy! You wouldn't attack an injured man, would you?" Riddle said.  
  
Draco was about to say something about his leg, but stopped himself just in time. Riddle didn't know about his broken leg! Not yet, anyway. "You're not injured," Draco said stoically.  
  
"Come now, I've just revived myself! I should get _some_ points for that!"  
  
"You're a freak," Draco said bluntly.  
  
He needed to think of something to do! He couldn't keep throwing comebacks at Riddle all day long. Draco racked his mind for anything, and suddenly he had an idea. He remembered earlier, when he'd still been inside his room and quite dry (he cursed inwardly at the thought), Riddle had said that his being alive meant that Draco would remain a vampire. So it was quite clear that the ultimate objective was to kill Riddle. Draco scoffed. _Potter's been trying to do this for years! Where the bloody hell_ is_ the prat when you need him?_ Then he stopped himself. What was he thinking? Since when did he need _help_, of all things, from _Potter_? The thought alone was sickening. He was basically a vampire now and Riddle was a vampire as well. This would be a fight between two vampires—a fight to the _death_. No room for Potter to hog the spotlight; this was _far_ out of his league.  
  
Draco smirked to himself.  
  
"You dare laugh at my expense?" Riddle growled, his eyes narrowed.  
  
Draco clenched his fists. He suddenly realized that his left hand's fingers were now wrapped around his wand and his right hand's fingers were…tightly grasping Ginny's right arm. Her warm skin under his cold fingers was beginning to turn white, so he removed his fingers off her arm, but his hand instantly began trembling, so he placed his hand back on Ginny.  
  
But when he looked up next, his pupils dilated and he grasped Ginny so hard he was sure his fingers would leave bruises. Riddle was charging at them! He shoved Ginny aside and rolled out of Riddle's way, favoring his injured right leg, just in time.  
  
Draco turned over, still sitting on the ground, and began backing away, pulling Ginny with him.  
  
Riddle faced Draco. "It's time I teach you some discipline, little Malfoy." He began walking toward Draco.  
  
Draco kept backing away, constantly making sure Ginny was well behind him. Before he knew it, Riddle lunged at him again, and again, and again. Dodging the seemingly endless attacks was draining Draco of his energy quite fast and his injured leg was hindering him. He was breathing hard. He inhaled deeply, clenched his teeth and shoved Ginny away from him before looking up to see where Riddle was.  
  
The dark wizard was crouched over, his arms almost reaching the ground, making him look like a savage dog. Without a moment's notice, he leaped into the air with a gazelle's grace and eyed his target like a stealthy panther.  
  
Draco evaded the attack as usual, except this time one of Riddle's hands had landed on his leg—his _injured_ leg. "Aaaargh!!!" Draco wailed in anguish. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the burning liquids slowly spilling through his clenched eyelids and the gut-wrenching pain he felt traveling throughout his whole body now. "Son of a— aaargh!" With a considerable amount of effort, he slid his leg out from under Riddle's hand, gasping for air as he did so. "You—you—you bas—!"  
  
"So that hurt, did it?" Riddle found some sort of sick amusement in this and jumped at Draco's left leg. "Does this one hurt, too?" His hand had touched a little bit of it, but judging from the lack of emotion, Riddle sneered and greedily jumped for Draco's right leg. "So it's—" he jumped again for Draco's right leg, which kept moving since Draco was dodging the attacks rather effectively for the most part, "this—" he dove again, "leg?" Riddle landed again on Draco's injury, causing the boy to yelp in pain.  
  
Occasionally whimpering, Draco began crawling away at what seemed a snail's pace, wishing the world around him would stop rocking and spinning so much. He turned back now and then to see if Riddle was about to attack again. After a desperate fifteen or so seconds of crawling, Draco saw Riddle's knees bend. He gave Ginny one final push and began crawling toward her when he felt a dark shadow pass beyond him. Riddle had jumped _over_ him! Draco felt his jaw slacken as he realized who Riddle's target was. Just in time, Draco pulled Ginny toward him and cradled her in his arms as Riddle landed where Ginny had been only seconds before. "What're you doing?" Draco seethed.  
  
"What? You thought I was going to bite into _your_ neck? Honestly, little Malfoy, don't you know anything? I'd _die_ if I bit into you, and so would you, since I'm a full vampire and you're… well, you're whatever percentage vampire you are… though you're definitely one-hundred percent _Malfoy_, I'll admit. Definitely your father's son. Fake."  
  
"Shut up about my father," Draco growled, slowly moving away from Riddle.  
  
"Testy, testy!" Riddle chided. "Now, you don't _really_ care for this girl… this Gryffindor. You don't belong with her… with her kind… you're one of us. And besides, I'm supposed to be disciplining you. So why don't you make this easier for the both of us by moving out of the way and letting me feast on her blood?" He was carefully observing Draco. "You'll have a little playmate afterward… a playmate for life. It's beyond me _why_ you'd pick _her_ of all people to protect like this, but I take it I am correct in assuming you've taken a liking to her? Maybe you even _fancy_ her?"  
  
Draco pursed his lips and remained silent. Riddle was just messing with him—there was no time to waste on him!  
  
"Thought so," Riddle continued. "She _is_ a pretty little thing. But you know she'd never like you back… never _love_ you back."  
  
Draco looked up.  
  
"Got your attention, have I?" An eerie smile slithered its way across Riddle's countenance. "But let me turn her into one of us. That way, she could love no other. She would only have you to love… only love for you. Only…"  
  
Draco blinked and rubbed his eyes. It seemed as though Riddle was slowly disappearing and becoming transparent and suddenly, Draco heard a twig snap behind him. He whipped his head around to see it was Riddle... holding Ginny's limp form in his arms! The girl's head lolled and her arms dangled lazily in the air. Riddle hadn't even been speaking all this time—it had been an illusion! A trick! A trick so Tom Riddle could get to Ginny's throat… to her blood. "Get away from her!" Draco hollered.  
  
Riddle saw the boy from the corner of his eye. There was a few paces' distance between them. He smirked at Draco, licked his lips, and slowly lowered his fangs. They touched the smooth skin on Ginny's throat. Thoughts of staining the ivory of her neck flooded his mind and gave him a sadistic sort of glee and pleasure, but before his fangs had even scraped the surface of anything, Riddle felt the wind being knocked out of him as he sailed through the air.  
  
"I said to stay away from her!" Riddle heard Draco growl into his ear.  
  
Then Riddle's eyes widened as he saw Draco open his mouth to reveal a maturing set of vampire fangs where his canines should have been.  
  
Riddle hollered at the boy that was pinning him down on the ground. "NO! STOP! WHAT'RE YOU DO—!" But now there was nothing else the dark wizard could do. Draco had sunk his fangs into Riddle's neck.  
  
And now that his fangs were attached to Riddle's gullet, Draco wasn't quite sure what to do. His initial plan was to just rip his throat apart like a tiger might, gory and bloody as it may seem, but long as his fangs were, they prevented him from biting too far into Riddle's neck. Now Draco felt Riddle's warm blood begin to ooze out of the puncture wounds his fangs had made. His lips began to get slippery with all the blood under them. With nothing else to guide him, Draco followed his instincts, sucked in a mouthful of blood, and swallowed it.  
  
"You'll kill us both!" Riddle coughed, seething.  
  
Draco felt the liquid go down his throat and felt a chill run up his spine. He felt Riddle struggle beneath him, so he sucked in more blood. Draco suddenly began to feel clammy and his head was swimming.  
  
Why was he doing this again?  
  
Because Potter was _always_ the hero. Because that damned Mudblood Granger always got one point higher than he did. Because Weasley and his disgusting little clan spent sleepless nights planning his demise. Because he didn't really have any friends to go back to; they just 'liked' him for his father's money, status and power. Because he'd been kicked out of his family. Because his father cared more for the Dark Lord and his cause than the fate of his own son. Because he had nothing else to live for. Nothing… nothing but one last promise.  
  
That was why.  
  
Draco was to the point where he could hardly feel anything at all. He couldn't tell if he was blinking rapidly or blacking out over and over again. With much effort, he finally tore his fangs off Riddle's neck; the dark wizard lay completely still with his eyes and mouth wide open. Draco took in slow, raspy breaths and eyed Ginny, who was still unconscious.  
  
_Damn that Weasley. She slept through the whole thing!_ Draco thought. He crawled toward the girl. He wished he could detach his leg, as it was causing him much unneeded pain. When he reached Ginny, he nudged her with his hand. "Wake up," Draco croaked. He shook her softly, which took him a great deal of effort in his current state. Draco repeated himself and he saw the girl's eyelids flutter open.  
  
Ginny stared at him and as her eyes widened, she sat up straight and looked from Draco to Riddle to the window to Riddle and to Draco again. "Draco!" She cried. "Draco, you're hurt!"  
  
A quick one, that Weasley.  
  
The stupid girl began crying right then and there. But what a sight he must've been. He was soaking wet, bruised and broken all over, blood smeared across his face, absolutely _awful_ hair, and muddy, no doubt, after crawling all over the ground for so long. But at least she was safe and unharmed for the most part. He just needed to get her out of Malfoy Manor now.  
  
Breathing was becoming a burden. He felt his heart beat slowly and softly. It burned the inside of his throat to breathe. He felt his head hit the muddy ground, for just holding it up was testing his strength now. Draco knew he was about to pass out—that much was clear, and whether or not he'd wake again afterward, he didn't care.  
  
"Get… out… of… here…" Draco whispered to Ginny.  
  
Ginny finally realized the severity of Draco's condition. "Sure, Draco," she sobbed. "Hang in there, we're—we're going to get out of here. Just hang on a little longer." She was trying to find a way to get Draco in her arms—to protect the odd young man who had protected her for an equally odd and mysterious reason, but he kept pushing her away.  
  
"Leave," Draco tried to say firmly.  
  
His eyes closed, and just before he succumbed to the darkness, he heard another voice—maybe two. "Ginny!" He heard. And then he was lost…  
  
…but she was safe.  
  


x x x

  
  
Ron and Hermione were walking in the courtyard on the backside of Malfoy Manor.  
  
"Ron, are you sure you had a vision that told you to come this way? I really don't think new Diviners can control their visions this quickly," Hermione said doubtfully.  
  
"How would you know? Are you a Diviner?" Ron placed his hands on both sides of her head and narrowed his eyes. "No… no, my Inner Eye tells me you're not."  
  
"Shut up, Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "We need to find you sister and—"  
  
"GINNY!" Ron suddenly yelled.  
  
Hermione looked up and saw a soaking wet Ginny Weasley whip her head around at hearing her brother's voice.  
  
Suddenly, a wave of relief swept over Ginny and tears she didn't know she was holding back began spilling down her cheeks. "Ron!" She cried. "Oh, God! _Ron_!" She hastily left Draco and ran—more like stumbled—toward her brother.  
  
"Ginny!" He'd finally found her! Ron dashed toward her and moments later, _finally_ had his little sister in his arms again.  
  
Safe.  
  
"Draco Malfoy!" Hermione suddenly cried from somewhere behind Ron.  
  
Brother and sister looked at Draco. "Ron," Ginny pleaded with her eyes. "Ron, _Draco_ saved my life! We've got to do something!" Another bout of tears and hiccoughs began. "And he…vamp…Riddle said… then he… the blood…vampires…bit him—and oh, Ron! Ron, I think he's going to _die_!"  
  
Ron turned to look at Hermione for help, but she seemed frozen in her tracks. She was looking at something beyond Draco's still body. He turned back around and gasped at the other fallen body he'd failed to notice earlier. "Gin—Ginny! Stop crying," he said in a steady voice. "Now, who's that?" Ron pointed.  
  
"Tom Riddle," Hermione said as if she were in a daze.  
  
Ron blanched and held his little sister out at arm's length. "Bloody damn _hell_! You _killed_ Tom Riddle?" His mouth was wide open.  
  
Ginny was a bit more in control of her emotions now and shook her head. "_I_ didn't kill him! Draco killed him and now I think Draco's going to die because… because…"  
  
"Because Draco's part vampire," Hermione said quietly.  
  
"So?" Ron asked.  
  
"Draco bit Tom Riddle," Ginny said.  
  
So?" Ron asked again, almost afraid of the answer.  
  
"It's bad because vampires suck blood out of all sorts of people—people with type A, B, AB, and O blood. All the blood types are mixed into a vampire's bloodstream and create a kind of unique blood for the individual vampire. However, if the blood of two vampires is mixed—even if so much as the saliva of one vampire enters another, _both_ vampires are terminated because the vampire's nervous system gets confused and begins fighting off the invading blood cells, but then ultimately begins fighting off the vampire's original blood cells as well," Hermione trailed off.  
  
Ron saw the worry present on his best friend's face. This meant Malfoy was dying as they stared at him. His body was in the process of terminating itself. True, he hated Malfoy with all his heart, but he never actually, _truly_ wanted him dead. Ron unknowingly shook his head. Malfoy _couldn't_ die here… not under his watch. He wouldn't be in debt to a Malfoy. That platinum-haired scumbag saved his little sister's life, so he would make certain his scumbag ass would be saved as well.  
  
He let go of his sister and turned around to face Hermione. "So Malfoy's going to die?"  
  
"Not unless we can get him to a MediWitch… or to Madame Pomphrey or something. We need an expert," she walked over to where Draco lay, kneeled down, placed two fingers on his wrist and listened for a heartbeat. She turned back with watery eyes. "He's not going to last long," Hermione whispered. "His energy's going fast and he feels cold, not to mention he's been out in the rain for so long."  
  
"Draco," Ron heard his sister whisper. He looked at her and knew that the fact that someone's life was in danger was making her upset, but _why_ did she keep saying Malfoy's name like that?  
  
"Hermione," Ginny sniffled. "Remember that power-transferring thing Harry did for Draco? I want to do the same for Draco." Before Ron could even open his mouth, she said, "Please, Hermione. It's the least I could do to pay him back for what he's done for me."  
  
Ron crossed his arms over his chest. Now something really _was_ up. "What _has_ he done for you?" Ron asked sternly.  
  
Ginny walked over to Draco, kneeled down, brushed strands of platinum off his face, and placed a tiny kiss on Draco's forehead. She turned back to her brother and replied in a sad voice, "More than you'll ever know."  
  
Ron's eyes were plates on his face. He kept pointing at Draco, then mouthing wordlessly at Hermione, then convulsing at the sight of his sister. "Ginny!" He finally yelled. After waving his arms around some more, he said again in a somewhat disappointed tone, "Ginny!" He massaged his temples with the fingers on his right hand. "Ginny, this is, like, _immoral_!"  
  
"Ron!"  
  
Ron's eyes widened. He'd expect Ginny to protest, but it was, in fact, Hermione!  
  
"What?" He wailed.  
  
"This isn't the time nor the place! We need to figure out how to get out of here," she said.  
  
Ron stared at his best friend. How could she be so calm about this? Did she not _care_ that Ginny had just kissed his nemesis? His rival? Hermione was worried about him thinking about such things at a time like this? Ha! Why wasn't she worried about Ginny slobbering all over Malfoy's face at a time like this?  
  
"Hermione, the spell," Ginny said.  
  
"No, you can't," Hermione said, frowning.  
  
"Of course I can! I want to, so I will!"  
  
"It's not that, Gin," Hermione said. "Only a male can do that spell. Don't you remember earlier? You actually asked the same question." She looked at Ron. "Only a male can conduct the spell."  
  
"Whoa!" Ron began backing away. "Don't look at _me_! I saw what that Dark Magic spell did to Harry!"  
  
Ginny completely ignored him. "Hermione, is there any way to apparate back to Hogwarts or any place near Hogwarts?"  
  
"I'm sure there is, because something's wrong with the spells around Malfoy Manor and there are no magic shields surrounding the grouds," Hermione said, looking worriedly at Ginny, "but I need to think of a way we can transfer all four of us back."  
  
"Well, if it's easier, think of a way to transfer just three people back, because I—"  
  
"Just three people?" Ron hollered. "What? Now you're going to trade your brother—your own flesh and blood—for a _Slytherin_!"  
  
Ginny crossed her arms. "Before I was so rudely interrupted," she glared at her brother, "I was saying that if it's easier, think of a way to transfer just three people back because _I_ am willing to stay behind." She saw Ron's mouth fall wide open. "There aren't any spells around Malfoy Manor, so I can get back to Hogwarts on my own as soon as I'm back on one of the main roads."  
  
"Considerate as your offer is, Ginny," Hermione smiled, "You really need to get back. Madame Pomphrey needs to check if you have any injuries or not."  
  
Ron was still red from realizing that after all this his sister was still selfless. "Well," he stuttered. "You could just transfer us each back to Hogwarts one at a time," Ron suggested.  
  
Hermione's eyes flickered. "Actually, Ron, that's a really good idea! I was so busy thinking of how to get all four of us back at once that I didn't realize I could just do the transfers one at a time! Brilliant, Ron!"  
  
Ginny acknowledged him with an angry glare all the same. "I can't believe how—"  
  
"Okay! I've got the spell!" Hermione shouted before Ginny could finish yelling at her brother. "Gin, stand still. You're first."  
  
"Bu—wha—_wait_!" Ginny hollered.  
  
However, there was no time to wait. With a swish and flick of Hermione's wand, Ginny saw the Malfoy Manor courtyard start to swirl further and further away from her before it had completely disappeared all together.  
  
With so many thoughts swirling through her mind, Ginny forgot to prepare for a landing, and therefore arrived at her destination with a thud. She felt something hit her head hard, and then blackness.  
  


x x x

  
  
Ginny's eyes slowly opened to find herself in a dimly lit room. A spot on the back of her head throbbed as she turned to face the window. The moonlight from a perfectly clear and quiet night illuminated her face as she turned back into the shadows. Everything _wasn't_ perfectly clear… what pathetic fallacy… how on earth could a night so clear and beautiful with the sky speckled with stars so bright and twinkling be before her when things were so horribly wrong?  
  
_Draco_, she thought.  
  
Immediately, Ginny sprang up and attempted to get out of bed, but a pair of strong arms prevented her from doing so.  
  
"No—Gin! Ginny, calm down! Relax!" Harry hissed at her. His glasses were off; he'd been sleeping in the chair beside her bed.  
  
"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed in a whisper. "Harry, it's so good to see you!" She gave him a warm hug. "Everything's gone terribly wrong and Draco—"  
  
"It's okay, he's being taken care of upstairs and your brother—"  
  
"Upstairs?" Ginny shrieked, her eyes growing wide. "Harry, _how_ can you tell me to relax? He's upstairs! That's the 'Critical Care Ward'!"  
  
She fought Harry out of the hospital bed and began changing into her clothes that were laid over a chair. Harry immediately turned away, the deep scarlet color of his face almost unnoticeable in the dark hospital room. He put on his glasses as if the spectacles might form a shield to hide his blushing face.  
  
"Ginny," he said, stopping abruptly as his voice gave a loud squeak. He turned redder, if that was possible. "Ginny, just wait a minute!" He turned around to stop her, but when he looked where she'd been standing, no one was there.  
  
A moment later, the door out of the infirmary room clicked shut.  
  
Harry sat down alone on the empty hospital bed and stared out the window at the desolate night sky.  
  


x x x

  
  
Ginny burst into the Critical Care Ward.  
  
The first person she saw was Hermione. She sat next to an empty bed and looked as though she'd been sleeping as well.  
  
"Hermione!" Ginny cried. "Where is he? Where's Draco?"  
  
"He's gone, Gin," she said in a very tired voice.  
  
Ginny felt the bottom of her stomach disappear. "What?" She stuttered. "He can't just—he's not—but he—"  
  
Hermione's eyes suddenly bulged. "Oh, dear! Ginny! No! Not _that_ sort of gone! I mean, he's been released from the infirmary. He's resting back in his dormitory under the care of Professor Snape," she trailed off.  
  
Ginny felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted off her and smiled. "Hermione, don't scare me like that again!" She was about to leave, but stopped herself. "Why are you still here then?"  
  
"Ron," Hermione said in one simple word.  
  
Ginny suddenly felt awful all over again. "Ron!" She hollered. Though the bed next to Hermione was empty, when Ginny ran past the screen next to it, she found her older brother lying peacefully under the hospital's polyester bedcovers. "Hermione, what's happened to him?" She began tearing up.  
  
"When you left," she began, "He performed that spell… the Dark Magic spell. Even though Draco wasn't a vampire anymore, his reverting back to a human was going to cause him to die, but Ron gave energy to Draco, which is why Draco recovered so quickly. But he gave him a lot of energy. Ron couldn't figure out how to stop the flow of energy, so he gave him a bit too much," she explained. "He's very weak right now."  
  
Ginny stared at her brother and finally noticed just how much the bags under his eyes seemed to stand out against his pale skin. The freckles on his face were like flecks of blood and his face was so serious… she could hardly remember a time when he wasn't laughing or when his bright eyes weren't twinkling playfully at her.  
  
"Is he going to be okay?" Ginny asked, almost afraid of the answer.  
  
"Fortunately, yes," Hermione said.  
  
Ginny gave a sigh of relief.  
  
"Since I transported him here immediately after the spell, Madame Pomphrey was able to heal him and give him enough energy to support his dormant body for now, but had he performed this spell in the same manner any other time, Gin, I don't think he would've made it." A single tear fell down Hermione's face. She looked up. "Gin, you owe him a lot."  
  
"I owe him my life."  
  
Ginny and Hermione jumped. They turned at the door to find Draco blocking the entrance. He invited himself in, supported by a pair of crutches. He also had a bandage wrapped around his head and one around his left hand. Hermione got up and Draco gladly took the seat, taking care not to hit his bandaged right leg anywhere.  
  
"Uh, I'll leave you two here… I'll go check on Harry," Hermione mumbled as she left, closing the door on her way out.  
  
The room seemed suddenly dark without the light from the hallway flooding into the room.  
  
"Draco," Ginny suddenly said, breaking the silence.  
  
He looked up. She still couldn't see beyond his slate gray eyes. What was he thinking?  
  
"My father and Tom Riddle's body were never found," Draco noted matter-of-factly.  
  
"I'm sorry," Ginny said.  
  
"For what? It's not your fault. Just means mum and I get the house all to ourselves, I guess," Draco said, acting as though nothing was wrong.   
  
Silence.  
  
"I," she stuttered. "I'm so sorry about… about all this," she said as she motioned to his injuries.  
  
"It's not your fault," he muttered again. "If anyone should take the blame, I should," he said in a deep voice.  
  
"Draco, you're the one that's hurt," Ginny tried to soothe him. "Physically and mentally… emotionally," she trailed off. Ginny sat on the foot of Ron's bed so she could see his face, but she only saw a large shadow that was cast on it.  
  
Silence again.  
  
"So," Draco broke the silence this time. "I guess no more Quidditch for me for a while," he gave a tiny grin as he moved his face into the light. "And these bandages are awful on my hair."  
  
Ginny smiled at the awful humor and the kind eyes that peered into her own.  
  
Silence once again.  
  
"Now what?" Ginny finally asked. It was the question they'd both been trying to get to and now it was out in the open. Now what?  
  
"How do you mean?" Draco asked.  
  
Ginny saw him retreat back into the shadows. "Don't play dumb," she said softly. "You have feelings for me, don't you?"  
  
She almost thought he wasn't going to answer when he softly said, "Yeah."  
  
"Well, I love you, Draco. I love you with all my heart and I want to be with you more than anything," Ginny told him. "Is that how you feel about me? About us? Or… am I taking this too fast?"  
  
"I love you, too, Ginny," Draco stammered. It felt weird on his tongue to call her by her first name instead of her last name. "You're the first person I've loved so much, Ginny."  
  
She felt a little relief at hearing him say those words, but still, she needed to make sure. "Then why are you so quiet right now?"  
  
"Probably the medications," he said offhandedly. He felt Ginny stare into him. "Er…"  
  
"Draco," she pleaded.  
  
"I," he stuttered, "I love you a lot, Ginny. At the beginning of this whole escapade, you were just another redheaded Weasley and now it's so odd that I've got such strong feelings for you. I mean, I still hate Potter and that bookworm Granger and Weasley—your brother… well, I guess I _might_ have to work on him, but I don't know what it is. I feel like a light inside me has suddenly been flicked on. Being with you makes me feel stronger and makes me want to be a better person. I love you so much, Ginny Weasley… _so_ much that I wish I could keep you in a box and take you with me everywhere. I don't want to lose you. I don't ever want you to leave my side—"  
  
"I won't!" Ginny cried, placing her hand on his face.  
  
"Alas, Ginny, you must," he said in a very sad tone. "It doesn't matter how much I love you nor how much you love me. You can't stay with me," he shook his head and Ginny's hand fell away. He looked up very sadly at Ginny's face, tears already rolling down her cheeks. "No, don't cry," he whispered. "You _must_ understand we can't stay together. Just look what's happened in this one day. Because you were with me, because you were at my house, because I love you," he trailed off. "You could've been hurt, Ginny, and now that I know it is you whom I love, I can't let anything happen to you. You're just so perfect and I—"  
  
"Draco," Ginny said sternly and softly.  
  
It suddenly began raining outside the window in the room.  
  
"Draco, nothing is perfect. Nothing and no one. And even if you feel you've found something as close to perfect as you think, you can't just place it in a box to carry around with you forever. _Nothing_ is forever, Draco. I want to be with you and you want to be with me, and whether it is just for tonight or for the rest of our lives, we love each other right now so we should be together no matter what." Ginny looked straight into Draco's eyes. "I love you, Draco. If you can look me in the eyes and tell me the same—_truly_ tell me the same, there's no way I'm letting you go."  
  
Draco looked into her eyes for what seemed like a long time. "But nothing is forever," he said, looking down.  
  
"Of course not. I already said that," Ginny said.  
  
Draco felt his insides begin to burn.  
  
"But," Ginny suddenly said. "_Love is eternal._"  
  
Draco let the words process and finally looked into Ginny's eyes. She held her breath. "I," he began in a soft whisper. He bit his lip for a moment and then—finally, "I love you, Ginny."  
  
Without a moment's hesitation, overcome with joy and happiness, Ginny leapt at Draco and kissed him. The chair he'd been sitting in tipped over and he groaned through the kiss as his leg hit something, but he soon ignored his leg, ignored the cold floor, ignored everything else and allowed himself to melt into Ginny's kiss.  
  
Suddenly, a loud crack of thunder and then lightning illuminated the whole room. Startled, Ginny accidentally pushed Draco away.  
  
"That scared me!" She was breathing hard and without even a moment's hesitation, burst into a tiny, almost silent giggle fit.  
  
"What?" Draco exclaimed.  
  
"Your lips are so red now!" She squealed.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Your face is all smeary and you're not wearing make-up and your hair's messed up."  
  
Ginny mouthed wordlessly at the rude comments.  
  
"And you look gorgeous," Draco smiled.  
  
Just before another round of kissing, Ginny saw the covers of Ron's bed move. "Ron!" She cried, running to his bedside.  
  
When she arrived at his side, he'd opened his eyes. "Gin," he whispered in a croaky voice. "Where am I?" His eyes hadn't adjusted to the dim light yet.  
  
"You're in the hospital ward, Ron," she put her hand on his forehead and pushed his hair back. "Everything's going to be fine."  
  
"Malfoy," Ron said. "How's the prat doing?"  
  
"Uh," Ginny stuttered.  
  
"The _prat_ is doing fine," Draco said, "Though your choice of words wounds me, Weasley."  
  
Ron tried to sit up but couldn't manage it, so he stayed where he was. "What's Malfoy doing in here?" He hissed.  
  
"We, uh, well, he—no, er, I, actually—"  
  
"I can be in here with my _girlfriend_ if I want," Draco finally declared.  
  
Ginny felt warm at the thought of being Draco's _girlfriend_, but ignored the thought for now. She watched as Ron's face turned red.  
  
"_GIRLFRIEND?!_" He hollered at the top of his lungs. "_GINNY!_" He was absolutely repulsed.  
  
The room's door suddenly burst open to reveal Harry and Hermione.  
  
"We heard Ron," Hermione said. "He's up, how's he doing?" She almost cut herself short when she saw Draco next to Ginny and Ron glaring at them both.  
  
"Ah, Ron, calm down, mate—" Harry began.  
  
"CALM _DOWN_?" Ron screamed. "_Draco_," he said with an attitude, "has just announced that Ginny is his _GIRLFRIEND_ and you want me to calm down?"  
  
"Girlfriend?" Hermione squealed. "Oh, Ginny, congratulations!" She clapped her hands.  
  
But that made Ron turn redder. "Let me at him!" He growled through clenched teeth. A moment before Ron could hardly even sit up, but now he was slowly propping himself up. Harry and Hermione ran to either side of his hospital bed to push him back down.  
  
"Ron! You've got to rest! Get," Hermione pushed his shoulder, "Down!" She huffed as Ron lay scowling now in his hospital bed.  
  
Another awkward silence… but Draco had had enough awkward silences, and if he was going to be with Ginny, her little Gryffindor friends would have to get used to him. "I guess Weasley's going to get better quicker than we'd anticipated," he smirked.  
  
Ginny began to giggle, bid Ron a good night, and pulled Draco out of the room.  
  
"Hungry?" Draco asked Ginny, hobbling slowly on his crutches.  
  
"Starved," she replied.  
  
When the couple arrived to the Hogwarts kitchen, Draco gave specific orders to the elves while Ginny waited outside the kitchen. When the meal was prepared, he called her back into the kitchen. She came in and found the kitchen's lights slightly dimmed, a table for two, and a single candle in the middle of the gargantuan feast the elves had prepared for them.  
  
"A candle-lit dinner—oh, Draco!" She gasped.  
  
They walked over to the table and Draco used one arm to lean on a crutch and the other arm to pick up a glass of champagne. He raised it up. "To eternity," he gave Ginny a debonair smile.  
  
She blushed slightly, returned the smile, and reached for her own glass. "To eternity."  
  
**Author's Note:** Okay, I know the last part with the candle-lit dinner was a bit corny and cliché, but I was going, "Awwww!!!" the whole time I wrote it! Anyway, I'm finally finished! The infamous DINB is complete! w00t, I say! This was my first HP fanfic and I'm so relieved and happy to have finished it and I hope you're pleased with the ending as well. Also, if you're upset about R/Hr and H/Hr, I was planning to pick a ship and write it into the fic, but I finally decided not to. I feel safe writing D/G because it's a very low possibility that J.K. Rowling will actually make them a pair in future HP books, but I don't want to choose R/Hr or H/Hr and have JKR choose the ship that I didn't choose… it would just complicate everything, so I'll leave it up to JKR to reveal the mystery behind R/Hr and H/Hr! ;)  
  
Also, my writing skills improved vastly through the process of writing this fic and perhaps some day I'll go through and edit parts of the earlier chapters… they're awful compared to the last few chapters! But back to the point! Now that DINB's finished, to quote Ginny, "Now what?" A few people asked me if there would be a sequel to DINB, and I really doubt it. I'm a senior in high school right now and am busy preparing for college, choosing a major, and surviving Senioritis! Also, one of my dreams is to some day publish a book of my own, so working on a HP fic would take time away from creating that dream book. But fear not! I'll still be writing ficlets and short stories because I can't stay away from my HP fanfics for long! So, I'm not really trying to say goodbye… uh… I know! _See ya soon_! XP LOL! It's been phun!  
  
But before I go, one last thank you to my faithful reviewers! You're what kept me going: **Maureen**, **Maggie**, **bigreader**, **Eiko**, **Jonah**, **Erika**, **Quietus**, **Spinn**, **Legolas-Obessesionist**, **Trinity**, **Sportz-Crazy**, and **reagan-felton**. 


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